"Hello Simon." Simon didn't bother to answer. The Voice was special. The Voice already knew what he thought. The Voice was his friend. He thought the Voice was his friend... Simon needed a friend. At least, that's what Simon's foster mom said. Everybody always says how Simon's foster mom is a saint for taking him in; even the Voice, so it had to be true. "Let's do something fun", the Voice cajoles. The Voice was like hot oil, filling Simon's mind, slipping and sloshing and burning new paths to the core of his soul. "We'll have fun, I promise we will." Simon didn't answer, only listened. But it wasn't like listening at all. It was like he 'sensed' the Voice. He 'heard' the Voice as if it crooned softly into an ear within his ear, one closer to his core; one closer to his true being. Simon blinked. His true being? What being was that? Was it the same being he was always being? And if not, who's being was he being? "Don't think on such things, you only confuse yourself." The Voice was right, of course. The Voice was always right. "And I am right when I say we will have much fun today.." If the Voice can grin, It was grinning surely now, Simon thought. But it didn't matter; they were going to have fun. People grin when they have fun, so why not disembodied Voices?

"What do you most want to see?" Stephanie. Simon loved Stephanie. Stephanie said she loved Simon, but she never came to see him much lately. She will so happy to see him... at least, Simon thought so. Aren't people who love each other happy to see each other? "Don't think so much", the Voice chided, "Come closer to me. Fly down just a bit; you needn't fear what your foster mother will think. She is a saint, as I have said, and no saint treads down here where I wait. So fly down a bit, sit closer to me; come closer and I'll show you what you came to see." The voice wouldn't lie... at least it never has before. Simon could fly a little closer. Fly on his frothy white wings. Only, they've turned a little gray. They've changed so gradually, it began around the time Simon found the Voice. Simon liked gray, so this couldn't be bad. Simon flew closer. Just a little closer. A feather fluttered down. Molting so early in the year? But Simon had no time to think of such a thing. Simon only had time for the scene before him... Stephanie. But never had he seen Stephanie this way. And never had he thought she would show such a side of herself to another man. She was naked, they both were. Stephanie and Him. But who was He? He was evil... he made Stephanie this way. He must be the reason Stephanie thrashed wildly on her bed and moaned loudly. Perhaps He had hurt her... He was on top of her, thrusting against her. Something stirred in Simon's pants. Simon should be with Stephanie. He was hurting her... He shouldn't do that. Not to Stephanie.

"What do you most want to do?" He shouldn't hurt Stephanie. He shouldn't. He should be punished... Simon wanted Him punished. "Come closer. I know how it can be done. I know the way, forged in a fiery pit, spoken on decaying lips. I can give you what you want; come closer to the precipice. Lean closer to those crusty blackened lips. There are many down here who know what do do; they've done it before. And enjoyed it.. O, yes, they enjoyed it then, and I enjoy them now. Come closer." A little closer. A clump of blackened feathers fell from his wings as he flew. Warm. Simon's hands were warm. Simon looked down. Red. How strange, why were his hands red? And wet... Simon felt guilty. Very guilty. But he hadn't done anything... he was only talking to the Voice. Or, rather, being talked to by the Voice. It was raining. Large drops of rain pummeled his back. No, not rain... Stephanie. Stephanie was hitting him... hurting him.. and screaming a name. Jeremy. He must be Jeremy. Then... He had not hurt her... she had enjoyed it. Enjoyed... with Jeremy, not Simon. Simon's cheek was warm. and wet. Simon's tongue tested the moisture; salty, a tear. More warm wetness. More red. Where is Stephanie now? Why did Simon feel so guilty?

"Where do you most want to be?" Simon didn't know. He didn't even know if he could go any where; many of his feathers had molted away. His skin even blackened in some places. So hot here. "I know where. I can tell you. Come closer to me. Come where I am. You belong here. Come with me." Simon was frightened. He had never been so close to the Voice before. "I won't hurt you; no greater harm will be done than has already been done." What did that mean? Had some harm been done? Simon was surely not involved... surely... but why this sudden pang of guilt? "Come closer, it will all be explained. All guilt is known and understood here." The Voice seemed glad of this... but surely It was only glad to be helping a friend. After all, the Voice had been wrong earlier... Simon had not had fun today at all. "Come closer to me; this world is not where you belong. Give yourself into my hands; I know where you belong. You belong with me." Simon hadn't had fun today... but the Voice had never been wrong before today. Simon's wings were battered, but he was sure he could make one last flight...

"Simon Martin. He must have come to this cliff after killing that couple in their bedroom." The police officer flipped through a notepad. "Stephanie Barton and Jeremy Yeats. He may have fallen, but it looks like suicide to me." Another officer sighed heavily. "Any family?" The first officer nodded, then he sighed also. "He had a foster mother, but she won't come down here to identify the body. Says something about this not being the right place for her. Whatever the hell that means."