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Shawn finished the last video.
Withdrawing the DVD came easy sliding it into the little square envelope with Gus's name on it. It was surprisingly easy to make the video. Compared to trying and failing to gently lay the news down upon Gus that he was closing Psych, this was the easiest way. It was a cowardly act and recognized that and he accepted that. A single moment where Gus was listening to him.
The last of the envelopes had their address put on including Gus. Next day delivery. A mere matter of hours between being on the road and proposing to his girlfriend. Possibly smack dab in the middle of a crime scene before Lassiter announced to the world that he was a fake psychic once and for all with real evidence all so happily to hold this press conference.
He opened the door then faced Brannigan.
"I sense..." Gently tapping on the side of his temple looking down then up. "the spirits say you need help."
Her face was long facing the psychic
"Guster is missing." Brannigan began to explain. "Buzz found his company car parked along the shoulder of the road to his place. It was empty. We found his pharmaceutical luggage intact. No sign of struggle. No sign of violence either. Canvassing for security videos and witnesses."
It had been hours since Shawn had last seen Gus and it was a lot to take in. Shawn closed his eyes then shook his head as his eyes fluttered open.
"Why are you telling me this rather than his parents?" Shawn asked.
"Because Lassie asked me to." Brannigan cleared it up in in a moment of ease. "I am on the case."
She turned away from the psychic starting to leave.
"And Bettie." Shawn stopped her from leaving the office.
She shifted back in his direction.
"Uh huh?" Brannigan asked.
Shawn wore a fond smile facing Brannigan.
"Pretty sure the department is going to be just fine from here without Psych.."
"If you got any threats---"
"This decision was made long before Gus disappeared." Shawn reassured shaking both of his hands. "Go on," beckoning her off. "make the department look stellar and incredibly bad ass finding my friend. There is no one else that I want on the case."
She turned away then left detecting no malice or resentment from him.
His assurance faded replaced by fear dropping the DVDs stumbling back and sitting down as it crashed upon him. He was leaving his best friend behind tomorrow and then suddenly he was taken. Incredibly.. bitter like life decided to take his best friend because he was leaving after choosing O'Hara. The center of his world.
He inhaled then got up, picked up the dvds, then went out, flicking the lights out, closing the door behind him.
Lassiter was overseeing paperwork thirty-two minutes later when the door to his office sprang open.
"Chief." Brannigan started.
"Almost done with this paperwork." Lassiter was immensely happy at the chair doing administrative work for the department. "What ever has to be said can wait. Texts are included."
"It's about Spencer." Lassiter looked up as his smile faded and his eyebrows lifted in alarm at the tone that was struck.
The chief leaned back into the chair.
"What happened?" Lassiter asked.
"He was grabbed after being involved in a car accident by men in black. We got a license plate. Spencer was last seen alive with a head injury but alive reeling back..."
He took out his phone then got up and turned his back to the head detective then called one number.
"Juliet O'Hara."
Brannigan left the office.
"Is Spencer on a case?" Lassiter asked.
"No." O'Hara replied.
Lassiter looked up with a sigh.
"O'Hara, be honest." Lassiter plead, rubbing his forehead. "What you know may be extremely critical to a on going matter."
"They recently solved a case for the department according to Shawn." O'Hara was mildy offended and annoyed. "Didn't say anything about having a new on the table. What they did they crash into this time? Another nerd convention with nerds who want blood for an autograph signing being cancelled because of them?"
"Guster and Spencer were abducted hours apart. I am calling Henry and Brannigan is getting paperwork to track down Guster's phone as we speak."
There was very long silence over the line for a moment.
"Mr Monk.. just wrapped... up a case." O'Hara was panting between breaths. "I will... be ...there... soon.. as possible."
O'Hara hung up on the other end.
Gus was the first who came to after being chloroformed then looked down observing that he was bound to and Shawn was by his side with his head hanging there. There no windows in the room so it had to be an office building. Paintings. Desks. Rows of familiar blue chairs.
Shawn was dressed in a very light blue plaid that had blood splatter. His face notably had been stitched up with a scar trailing skin to the left side of his favored temple to feign being a psychic. His good temple now sore and numb.
"Shawn?"
Shawn groaned, softly, lifting his head up, struggling to open his eyes, coming to.
"Shawn!"
His hazel eyes flickering open.
"My heaaaad!" He whined then whirred his head aside then squinted and smiled. "Gus?" Shawn was groggy facing him. "Wow!" Having the heart to laugh. "Brannigan is that good!"
"Shawn, they snatched you, too!"
"Oh and right, relatively rudely and harmful. And who is this 'they'?" His pained hazel eyes staring at him, searchingly. "A person.." lifting his eyebrows then furrowing them. "or people?"
Gus was shaking his head quite disappointed.
"I cannot believe we got abducted almost immediately after closing a case!" Gus complained.
"Dude, that was barely a day ago." Shawn reminded.
"This happens normally during a case!" Gus reminded, terrified. "This is wrong. Soo wrong! And it is people in this context."
A figure entered the room with men who had guns on them.
"One of you is going to die tonight." She was a middle aged woman who seemed to be of Asian descent. "My name is Wilkensen Maeori.. You are my guests and we have a business to attend."
His best friend looked up toward her and stared.
"Why?" Shawn asked.
"Don't the spirits inform on this issue." Wilkinson reminded him him.
"The spirits speak on the behalf of the dead." Shawn clarified ringer annoyance. "Why does one of us have to die?"
"One of you is walking out and the other isn't." Wilkensen responded.
"Okay, stop repeating yourself and tell us why one of us is going to lose our lives." Gus ordered.
"It is the least that we deserve." Shawn agreed.
"Answers and closure before being ripped apart." Gus agreed.
"Isn't it an obvious one?"
"No, not really." Shawn denied, sincerely turning his head aside and momentarily closed his eyes. "The spirits are giving bad reads." He looked up toward Wilkinson. "Say this room is going to be a bomb."
Gus's brown eyes flashed open catching the wording there then faced Wilkinson, quite upset.
"There is a bomb in here?" Gus squeaked.
"Multiple bombs! The spirits are now proclaiming." Shawn added.
"Santa Barbara's finest psychic detectives. It's in the tin."
"There is additional information that is not in the tin about us." Gus protested
"Your friends are well on their way. One of you is still going to die tonight whether they come in or not they're just going to join the other."
Gus and Shawn exchanged a look. Shawn's jaw hanging open full of concern in the familiar fear and tension as the old days came back with a single crash throwing them metaphorically against the wall in a final blow. Gus furrowing his eyebrows in disbelief. They turned their attention toward her both shaking their heads at the thought of never seeing the other again. Unimaginable Hell.
"Let me stop you right there." Shawn started.
"Downplaying your achievements is a fine sight." Wilkinson started giggling then laughing.
"I'm closing Psych and moving to San Francisco." Shawn continued.
"You are-- what?" Gus repeated, blindsided.
"Moving to San Francisco." Shawn went on.
"And you only just talking about it when we were up held hostage?" Gus asked, incredulous.
"Listen, gus, my man, it's really hard to tell you bad news. I have tried multiple times this week." Shawn confessed then faced their finest foe. "The finest detective in the city is Betsy Brannigan the new head detective."
"I heard of her." Wilkinson answered.
Shawn was grinning shaking his head in pride and happiness for the impressive competent head detective.
"She is giving Lassie a run for his money." Shawn was smug shaking his head. "You've made a grave error in your judgment."
She looked toward the door then toward her men and back.
"There is no error here." Wilkinson replied.
Shawn looked over toward Gus.
"Gus, you got a better job, the department doesn't even call us like before.. and I am just getting in the way of a real genuine girlfriend that can commit to you so can we hold off on any heroics tonight?"
"You are my best friend who happens to be psychic and I would appreciate it if that angst is not the last thing that I hear from you."
"And your career .."
"Shawn, I am really good at what I do."
"Missing routes. Important stuff that I dragged you away from with your new roles, maybe I shouldn't have helped out that haunted house case and closed Psych a long time ago and left."
Gus gawking then clicked in a way that was 'now you shut your mouth!' More than anything.
"Everything I got is justly deserved. I got 3 weeks of vacation to justify being held captive for weeks."
"Being kidnapped is not a vacation!"
"My talent more than make up for my absence. And I am pretty sure Lassiter would go after you for leaving so abruptly."
"He wouldn't have done that." Shawn argued in disbelief.
"He so would." Gus argued.
"Lassie?" Shawn squinted back at the pharmaceutical salesman, flabbergasted. "Back then?" Turning his head aside then faced Gus shaking his head. "Inconceivable."
"Come on, son." Gus looked at Shawn, frankly.
Wilkinson's lips lifted as Shawn really thought about how mysterious his actions would have been. Bothered him how unusual they were after a time. Doing some light investigating to satisfy the question only to discover that Gus quit. Which brought more questions. Including more thorough investigative work.
Shawn studied Gus's face as if could be the last time that he would see it on the land of the living and the memorable glare.
"The psychic." Wilkinson decided.
A single move then they went over toward Shawn
"No. No way! Nooo way!" Gus started to say shaking his head. "We are a pair!" Struggling in his binds. "We are matching socks!"
Bonded pair more. Like it.
"Hey, hey, he is a innocent!" Shawn began to protest being lifted to his feet as he raised his voice. "Take him rather than me!"
"Take both of us!" Gus insisted in the struggle. "We work together in sync!"
One of the men poked out.
"They are coming, Wilkinson!"
"How many?" Wilkinson asked.
"The chief is with them!"
Wilkinson smiled turning her attention back upon the men.
"Only one is wanted." Wilkinson replied
"I am not called Magic Head for no reason! I am his anchor to the land of the living!" Gus argued back.
Shawn was dragged out of the room.
"No, no, Wilkinson, you can't do that to them!" Shawn was having and fuming with his feet planted on the floor. "You said one! Just one."
"Of you two. " was the specification.
Shawn gaped looking back at the pharmaceutical salesman that he was leaving behind to the past who looked both angry and scared..another snap shot taken in his mind. He turned his attention back upon her
"Your exact words suck." Shawn said.
"Taking everyone is so much appealing." Wilkinson said.
Shawn was forced forward further out of the room.
"No, no, no, no, take me too!"
The door burst open off the hinges then Lassiter appeared with the two blondes by his sides, an incomplete blonde squad. O'Hara moved fast as did Henry as Gus was now screaming at the door.
"Where is Spencer?" Lassiter asked
"She took him! She took him! She took him!"
O'Hara went to the door then grabbed the knob and turned it.
"Shawn! I am coming after you!"
O'Hara kicked down the door with a single kick aiming her gun in as she was joined by Brannigan.
"Lassiter, this place is rigged to explode." Henry's voice was sharp as a well cares for aging sword. " It's got bombs! And we don't have much time to scope out the entire place!"
"How much time?" Lassiter asked
Henry looked over towed the stash then faced him.
"Less than a minute." Henry replied.
Their attention shifting toward the direction of the women. A daunting and heavy decision to be made that had to be executed. Give up and leave the psychic behind. The men exchanged a very brief glance at the prospect of losing one of them and it stung them equally. Henry moved toward Gus then knelt down by his side and took out his swiss army knife.
"Jules!" Shawn called from close by.
Henry finished untying Gus then proceeded to tug him away.
"Shawn!" Juliet ran toward the sound of his voice.
"I love you!" Shawn yelled.
O'Hara kicked down the door then there was a ball of fire.
A explosion knocked her back with a loud roar over Gus's terrified shriek. A loud 'no' that rang in the air. Lassiter looked on toward the room watching Brannigan fly into his line of sight then land. Lassiter's mouth hung open.
"SHAWN!" Gus screamed from the door.
Brannigan got up to her feet then went forward and returned tugging a screaming O'Hara out of the room while hacking as fire crawled on the wall and traveled through the room. Glass shattering. Her knees giving out beneath her heart that was severely crushed. Screaming one name over and over and over as if her heart had been yanked out leaving only pain behind in her chest.
Lassiter grabbed an arm then they tugged her out of the room and descended the stairs as the prior room blew up behind them loudly with a roar. Lassiter and Brannigan exited the building hacking and coughing as the smoke exited the building and more rooms blew up acting as aggressively on going demolition crew that were doing things rough and painful getting the job done under unconventional means.
The explosions ceased and smoke and fire drifted out the windows.
Five men who had been burned severely came into Woody's morgue. One one of them had Shawn's phone embedded into the side of their frame. Like all of the others, it had the handy work of doctors. Except they fought harder to save him. The very last one in the emergency room. Only one of them had a green scorched phone with white familiar text halfway eaten over the white words 'psych'.
A tube in his throat. Cold skin that was still wet. Stitched up injuries from the close proximity of the blast. Pieces of tattered light blue plaid stuck to his arms. Surgical dressings decorating his frame contrasting red and black burned skin. His face was virtually unrecognizable having lost defining features. And pieces of his faded undershirt left cling to his torso.
Woody checked the dental records.
Then it was a matter of calling Brannigan.
"Is he one of them?" Brannigan asked.
Woody didn't have anything amusing to say standing in the cold room.
"The last one is him." Woody said, bluntly.
"Men, " Brannigan looked over with her arms folded. "just men."
"All of the remains are men." Woody chimed.
"That bitch." Brannigan muttered
"Huh?" Woody looked over.
"There was a woman there."
It sunk in pretty fast from there.
"This was a hit." Woody said.
Woody withdrew the blanket gazing down upon the head lacking hair.
"Looks strongly to be the case." Brannigan agreed.
Woody looked up facing her for a moment.
"So Gus finally calmed down enough to talk?" Woody asked.
"I had to bring in his mom and dad." Brannigan looked aside then back. "He just kept crying otherwise.. we have precious time that can't be wasted. He is a witness."
Woody looked over toward the small envelope addressed to him that was square.
"How is old Lassie doing?" Woody asked.
"Holding up remarkably well compared to everyone." Was the admission. "Somehow.. he.." she stared at the figure. "Don't know how he does it."
Neither did Woody who autospyed Shawn Spencer. His friend.
Brannigan turned away then left Woody behind.
Just like Shawn had.
Lassiter opened the door to interrogation facing the woman behind it all seated on the other side of the table. The door slammed shut behind him. From the other side of the window stood a number of familiar faces waiting to hear her side of the tale.
He sat down into the chair dropping a file into the table quite coldly and darkly looming like he wanted to strangle her with his bare hands.
"Who hired you and your men to kill Shawn Spencer."
"Not speaking without a lawyer." Wilkinson said.
He rested his fingers on the table with his palm held up.
"You need a lawyer for a plea deal." Lassiter told Wilkinson. He faced her in a moment of tranquil rage. "We got you."
"What do you got then.."
"Chief Lassiter."
"Chief Lassiter, isn't this the sort of thing a detective should be doing?"
"This is personal." Lassiter replied, coldly. "We worked together. He wore blue but he wasn't part of the blue."
"Very and disturbingly poetic."
"We have footage of you and Spencer and Guster and your men going in there and loading it up in bombs." he leaned forward clasping his hands together. "Brannigan has checked your bank account and there is no recent big money transfers."
She remained silent staring at him with her arms folded.
"So, I ask... again... who hired you do the abduction and murder of Shawn Spencer?"
"Not my place to say."
"You murdered a man in cold blood."
"I dropped him in a room and left as requested."
"This was pre meditated." His voice was on edge leaning forward. "Don't you know what that means?"
Lassiter studied her as he got up then walked around her.
"The death penalty." Wilkinson remarked.
"Something to make a deal over with cooperation..." he withdrew pictures setting them out on to the table. "an associate of yours was put away two years ago who you were close to during a small case with the FBI that Brannigan just happened to discover involved the psychic and his partner."
The chief took a sip of water then set it down.
"We got a motive for murder." Wilkinson stared back at him. "But I have been advised by FBI agent Topping that you would have done it long ago which leads me to believe someone came across you."
Her lips lifted into a smile.
"Still a motive." Wilkinson pointed out.
"We are searching your phone and scrutinizing everyone in your contacts. We will find out sooner or later."
"Never in a million years going to happen. No one put me up to it."
Lassiter was deeply skeptical in the interrogation room
"Make it easier for yourself, cough it out if need be: Who is it?"
Wilkinson folded her arms leaning back into the chair.
"It was all my idea." Wilkinson insisted.
He was growing increasingly furious seated there.
"This dirt bag can't be worth a needle." Lassiter replied.
Wilkinson wore a smug smile that was big and wide with her white teeth all exposed.
"Once stewing on things long enough deciding to act is only a matter of time." Willkinson said. "Accept your win."
"Someone had to be really angry enough to scheme this plot out of revenge that is beyond overkill. A bomb. Making one think they are going to live but instead killing them brutally in a cold sterile room in huge amounts of pain. That is a cruel joke that requires anticipating and wanting the victim to survive and suffer and die."
"You were there."
"Right, I was."
"You still hear his screams."
"And I still see him as a wronged distraught very burnt and angry ghost screaming by your side."
"You... you... you were there when he was found."
The smoke still hanging in the air. The darkness of the room lingering in his mind as he held his phone out calling for him then hearing a one continuously running agonized girly shriek.
"Only one person is allowed that luxury." Wilkinson smiled then turned to her side and puked. "Like I said, someone approached you." she wiped the corner of her mouth wirth her sleeve. "Someone with a stomach of steel."
He was talking in circles running short of running laps.
"Give it up."
"What do you got?"
"Huntingtons. Thought I'll take him with me."
"That's a lie because your doctor said your test came back negative. Answer me, honestly."
She leaned forward getting closer starting to grimace.
"Honestly...?" Wilkinson asked.
"The truth." Lassiter confirmed
Wilkinson bore a wicked smile.
"I wanted fame, Chief Lassiter," Wilkinson answered, then leaned back. "and I got it." Snapping her fingers and grinned. "And made it look so easy."
Lassiter slid forward the legal pad then got up and left the interrogation room. Gus dniffled in response with his hands in his pockets gazing down with tears still running down his cheeks.
A strange feeling fell into his gut. One of those feelings that Shawn was out there and in his life, except, bitterly, Gus knew otherwise. He couldn't prioritize investigating the gut feeling as he sniffled. He knew his best friend was gone. He watched him be buried an hour ago in a nice hole in a black suit and the casket never opened during the funeral service. Just a photograph resting in front of the coffin that represented him best.
Gus sniffled walking away.
Woody appeared by the side of the detective grabbing the side of her arm wearing sympathy and concern.
"The more you stare at her the more alive that she is and the deader you are." Woody said. "Juliet," she looked over toward him. " don't add my morgue." Shaking his head very gently and slowly. " I can't take that today after..."
O'Hara sniffled looking down.
"Two women wheeling in?" Woody pressed it in further. "One that I knew?"
"I.. i.. i.." O'Hara spoke between tears. "I found a box that had his grandfather's engagemrnt ring at his apartment."
O'hara left him be as Woody gaped apologetic and sadlt watching her go.
Brannigan returned to the interrogation room with McNab hanging behind on the other side of the mirror to study her method several minutes after the crowd lefr. McNab had only just became a detective per the recommendation of the head detective. He watched her be seated there at the table.
"You attacked Eold Wolf today during the shooting of a crime thriller film."
The figure sat there with his arms folded staring back at her.
"Asking him where he sent someone."
A security officer with his arms folded wearing a strong resemblance to her partner. First Class Polyester Two Tone Short Sleeve Uniform Shirt that was blue and black. He didn't have an id badge on him as if he had lost it along the way
"Do you have anything to say?"
He stared at her with his arms folded looking unapologetic. A long stare. The door opened then the detective appeared.
"She's been booked." McNab said.
The security officer stared at him and gaped as if something clicked in his mind. His mind processing looking back and forth as it crashed upon him. Things made sense. Watching the detective walk away. Profound sorrow replaced the stare facing the head detective.
"He is willing to not press charges if you issue an apology." She saw only grief and sadness. "Are you having a difficult day?"
The security officer had a small nod
"I know how it feels." The man sniffled then looked aside. "The department buried the psychic today."
He looked up in sympathy.
"He was here yesterday..and.. now he's gone."
He sniffled looking aside wiping a tear and another.
"Killed so intentionally that he suffered." In disgust and hate at what had occured. "It wasn't quick. But it was very slow." Tears started to fall from the security guard. "And he.. I have never heard a man scream that way being taken into an ambulance."
He wrote on the legal pad then slid it forward: Was he alone?
"Chief Lassiter went with him to the hospital."
Chief lassiter... His greatest achievement and he had to shake off the psychic moving on to this new phase of life rather violently. Life shook him off. Not the chief to his heart and misfortune.
'I made sure before hand that Guster, Juliet, and Mr Spencer left the scene so.."
He wrote another strip of text on there then slid it forward.
"Would you want Shawn to suffer coming back? Is it worth his misery?" Brannigan towards the text that was on the legal pad. "What kind of question is that?"
He opened his mouth to talk lowering his gaze then up.
"It's disturbing..."
She looked up toward the crying security officer who was easily falling apart.
"Why don't you talk?"
He opened his mouth, remembering.
"What is your name?.. Officer."
"I can't do this with you right now." A voice that made her stunned and stare as she recognized him.
Saw her partner before she opted to remold him then back toward the window and faced him feeling as if she were in the x-files.
Her gaze returned upon him.
"And he has been dead for two years and you don't know how lucky you all are to get--" his pitch raised lifting his hand up then lowering it to the table. "--to bury him immediately."
He got up then discharged a gun shot to the right side of her chest and knocked her back.
He fired into the interrogation room window shattering it into pieces drawing silence i1n the entire department before reaction.
The detective fell with a single pop then the security guard walked on past putting on a baseball hat walking past Lassiter, Gus -- snatching his keys -- and Henry dressed in black suits. Walking on past the crowd that arrived for the interrogation room. Looks of concern and worry stretched across their faces.
The figure descended down the stairs then took out the smart keys and pressed them. Descending down the steps listening to the sound of the beep and dropped then HPC hat. He discharged several gunshots into the tires of the hybrid car that belonged to the chief. Only way to be sure.
The jet black car sped off mere minutes later. Gus was outside shortly thereafter.
"That is a company car!" Gus shrieked
Lassiter ran out joining the side of Henry squinting on as paramedics arrived on the scene.
"He went that way!"
"Spencer, I am commandeering--"
"Go right ahead, Lassiter." Then Henry added. "I am driving."
Lassiter was in hot pursuit of the vehicle in the passenger side as the Jeep explorer sped on down the street. Cars swerving out of the way and wheels squealing in a moment of chaos. Lassiter fired multiple times for the tires missing multiple times as memories of the paled and panicked detective lingered in his mind.
His first day and he got shot and Lassiter didn't like that at all.
Lassiter looked on then watched the driver turn his attention toward him.
His jaw dropping and the gun lowering staring at the familiar figure.
"Sorry, chief!" Henry looked over at the sound of the security officer as his eyes flashed open. "This is above your head!"
The jeep explorer's tires were popped all at once. Henry slowed down watching the man go into the distance vanishing as a specter that couldn't be reached. Lassiter held on to the yellow paper in his hands reconsidering the question.
"Do you want Shawn to suffer in order to come back?"
Henry looked over toward the chief for a moment.
"Never in a million years." Henry answered. "He suffered enough. And--"
"It is generally not worth it." Gus took the words out of his mouth.
The two men looked over spotting Gus in the back of the truck.
"How long have you been back there?" Lassiter asked.
Gus clicked in response, incredulous.
"It's a company car!"
Lassiter linked up the phone then started making a call that would undeniably result in the finding of the company car. He was right. It was well over his head and venturing into it was not worth his sanity.
"I love you!"
He saw the door kicked open then watched her stand there with Brannigan behind her wearing a equally as determined gaze. Then a enormous fire ball consumed them both and the loud explosive hunger made of powerful destruction knocked him back over his scream.
Silence for a single moment staring into the now darkened room af all the sets were replaced with props and the lights went out. He saw two slumped figures resting there. His chest hurting and aching. His mouth was hanging open taking in the devastation.
He was lifted up to his feet then taken back out of the room over his wailing listening to the sound of their screams striking the air.
Screaming in pain and heart ache dragged away over his own screaming then he was hit by something hard. Something that did not help in the slightest with his mended car accident injury.
His head pounding loudly as his vision returned and darkness receded revealing a ordinary farm house with a familiar figure that he nearly proved was a murderer long ago. A horror movie director who had a mansion. He saw that smug smirk. A tall cluster of trees looming above the old house itself and around it. Eold Wolf.
"You .. you... you... took away a baby's dad." Shawm agonized.
"Terrible news," Wolf apologized. "there was a house fire and she joined her father."
"You BASTARD!" Shawn raged at him lunging forward but was stopped by strong arms. "You fucking bastard! She was a baby! She never lived!" The door to the house opened then he was tugged in and the basement door opened with a creak almost on cue. "She was a baby!"
Wolf looked relatively confident.
"Now, you will not bother escaping."
"You f-f-f-f-fuuuuucker!" Shawn bawled.
"Makes having ankle cuffs and chains and balls very obsolete." He patted around rubbing a tall colorful chair that was mainly maroon red with faded flowers. "I lived around this area with an ankle monitor due to the financial crimes the spirits proved me of and that convinced me one thing...."
He held his index finger up facing the psychic approaching him.
"You could pull off a serial killer set up and bury so many innocents." Shawn concluded the idea harshly.
Wolf simply wore a amused smile at at the sharp comment that was serious having momentary composure over himself.
"No one should ever have something like that on their ankle." Wolf finished
"Like blowing everyone up and making it so they could survive to s-s-ss-suffer before death claimed them?" Shawn blubbered leaning forward, hurt.
Shawn was shoved in to the basement where he landed with a thud and a cry on the landing. He lifted up to his knees as the emotional walls collapsed and he wailed over the green eyes resting on him.
"You will find the place is well up to your satisfaction, Shawn Spencer."
Shawn looked up teary eyed, crying, between sobbing, upset, and eyes blood shot then the door closed loudly on him.