Ricky knocked on Manson's door. I waited behind him, still trying to calm myself down from what I had read. Someone was trying to kill me. I assumed the person who fired that gun was a Fed but now the possibilities have widened. Out of anger, I wanted it to be. It's hard to believe they would hide in such plain sight and do something so stupid. If someone in the FBI wanted me dead, they could take me out in my sleep.

The real concern comes when Ryan is afraid to speak it out loud. That's what makes me think it could be a fed. Maybe both lines of logic are correct. There could be someone dirty in the agency, or several people. You don't get this high up in national security without a few bad seeds forcing their way in. The evilest of the world want power. I just wish there was a safe place for me to talk to Ryan about it.

For now, I've got something else to worry about. There's always something else, isn't there? It can't ever just be one thing. It's always got to be twenty at once. Manson opened the door as little as he could manage. These doors don't swing in and out. They slide side to side. It was very futuristic but it was annoying when I couldn't slam them. Anyways, I digress.

"Is Twiggy avaible? We need to talk to him." Ricky said.

Manson was never happy to see us but he wasn't exactly unhappy. Aside from when he's around his boyfriend, he acts void of emotion. He stared back at Ricky, "About?"

"The, um," He cleared his throat, "Incident between Kuza and I last week. He was pretty freaked out by it and I wanted to try to talk to him about it."

"He doesn't need a therapist." Manson began to shut the door but I stopped him. He glared at me. If looks could kill.

"The security footage from the attack is missing. The camera cut out. Ricky isn't remembering it right and I know Twiggy saw something that day that no one else did." My voice softened, "Please let us see him. This could be our only chance to get Kuza out of the hold. You've heard the way he screams day in and day out. He's going crazy in there. You of all people should know how it feels for the person you love to be rotting away in a padded room."

His stare remained blank for a moment. Manson reopened the door, letting me in. Ricky tried to follow me but he stopped him. "Just Ghost can talk to him."

Ricky narrowed his eyes, "And why's that?"

"Because you were the one that put him in that hole. I don't trust you." He seethed.

"Fine. I'll be in my office." He responded, heading back down the hall.

"It wasn't Ricky's fault that Kuza was put in the hold. Someone higher up made the call." I told him.

"I wasn't talking about Kuza." Manson replied, sitting down on the edge of the bed. Twiggy crawled over to him, snuggling into his side. He put his arm over him instantly, as if it was instinct. "I dug my own grave. I chose to commit a crime on national television. When it happened, Twiggy was far, far away. I had him in hiding because he wasn't supposed to take the fall for it. It's Ricky's fault he ended up in prison. I thought you knew that."

There was a chair at his desk that I grabbed to sit in. I moved it in front of the bed and turned it backwards. "Ricky has a nasty habit of glossing over the fine details. How'd he find him?"

"He knew I was the only one that knew. Ricky wouldn't give up until I told him where he was. He had me tortured, physically and chemically. Eventually he let Ryan have a poke at me. He injected me with something, he called it a truth serum. I still have no idea what the fuck it was or what it made me say. I can't remember what I said. The memory is like it's there but it's not. Apparently they got me to tell them where Twiggy was.

The fucker didn't even have the decency to put us in the same prison. They sent him to Terre Haute where he was thrown in general pop. He's one of the only people I could ever say would've done better in solitary like I was in ADX."

"I'm sorry... He never told me any of this. He's a fucking asshole but staying married to a fed is still better than prison. The rest of us, we don't want to do most of the things they ask us. We do it because they tell us to." I explained.

"I could tell Ryan didn't want to do what he did to me. Ricky didn't give a shit though." He replied.

"You've had other accomplices. I remember reading it in your case file. Why didn't he go after them?" I asked.

"They're dead." Twiggy muttered. He didn't seem too upset about it but I'm guessing there might be a reason for that.

"Two of them are still alive. Paul and Gil are in Folsom but I don't care about them enough to help them. They've got each other at least. Plus those twisted bastards probably enjoy having their breakfast every morning with Charles Manson. The others," Manson sighed, "Let's see... I set Ginger on fire, I threw John down the elevator shaft of a very tall building, I stabbed Tom, Twiggy drowned Madonna, Daisy could be alive, if he ever got out of that basement..."

"Fuck," I muttered, "Why did I think it was a good idea to let you join the team again? You don't exactly have a good track record of playing well with others."

"Honestly, I don't know. I thought it was a pretty fucking stupid idea on your part but I wasn't going to say anything. Especially after you told me there was a possibility of getting Twiggy out. I've heard Chris talk about how Angelo doesn't belong here, that he never belonged in prison either. That's the way I am with him." He pulled Twiggy closer to him, kissing the top of his head.

"To be fair, before we broke out of Graham, Angelo actually never killed anyone. The only reason why he was in prison was for helping Chris hide." I said.

"Twiggy never intended to become like me either. The first murder I committed was in 1989. We knew each other at the time but it wasn't until about four years later that we fell in love and he started cleaning up my messes for me. He didn't actually kill anyone until 2007, when he killed Madonna."

I looked to Twiggy, hoping to get him to start talking. He was so shy and I thought maybe if I warm him up, he'll be easier to talk to. "Why'd you kill him?"

He glanced up at Manson, then back at the ground. "He was going to kill him... We were at a motel and he was pointing a gun Manson... So I grabbed him from behind and drowned him in the hot tub... He was a bad soul."

Manson sighed, "He told me that when we met him but I didn't listen to him. We trusted Madonna for seventeen years. That's when I learned two very important lessons; To always listen to Twiggy's intuition, and that there is a difference between being a bad man and a bad soul."

The two seemed so separate but to what degree, I couldn't configure. I had to ask, "What's the difference?"

"Bad people do bad things to people they hate. Bad souls do bad things to people they love." Twiggy responded.

"Do you believe any of us are bad souls?" I questioned, but he remained quite. He gave me a glance with his big eyes, then looked away again. "It's okay. You can tell me. I need to know."

"There's not anymore." He said, then whispered, "But it'll come back."

He wasn't making this any easier on me. There was something he felt in this world that I didn't. Something that most of us didn't. They say that only very pure people are to be blessed with spiritual abilities. I wouldn't take a murderer missing some of his marbles to be one of them. Bad people kill those who deserve it, the bad souls. Maybe the reason why Manson continued to kill was because he had a human detector for who those bad souls were.

My eyes searched his, trying to make sense of his vagueness, "What do you mean not anymore? Who was it before?"

"Bad spirits can move sometimes... And sometimes some people can make them move, but they don't like to be moved..."

"That morning Kuza and Ricky got into a fight, the security cameras cut out. Even if they hadn't, you saw something that they wouldn't have, didn't you?" I asked. Hesitantly, he nodded. It would help if he would talk a little more. Something tells me he's scared of whatever this evil is that Kuza keeps rambling on about. "Please, tell me what happened. Whatever you saw, this bad soul, I think he wants to hurt Kuza. I need to know what it is though."

"There is something worse than The Devil," He whispered, "And once it has hold of someone, the only way to get rid of it is to drain it from the body."

"Drain it from the body..." I muttered. My heart raced once I met a moment of realization, "Is that why Kuza bit Ricky?" His response was a slow nod. Though I feared the answer, I had to ask, "What is it?"

He thought for a moment. Manson held him tighter, to try to comfort him. I wasn't sure if he was scared to speak of it or scared to admit he didn't fully know. If he understands it enough to know how to get rid of it, I hope he knows how to deal with it.

"Evil... Is created from the betrayal of the good... The Devil was an angel cast out from Heaven... Hel was forced by Odin to rule the underworld because he thought she was destined for evil... Hades was given the underworld after defeating his father and it corrupted him... No one starts out evil, but this... It did... And that's why it's worse than The Devil." Twiggy's eyes began to gloss over. That was honestly the most words he's said at one time since I've met him. He buried his face in Manson's shoulder.

"You've upset him." He said, "You have what you need. Now leave."

I had plenty more questions, like how the fuck Twiggy knew all of this, but I wasn't going to push. Respectfully, I thanked him for helping me as much as he did. Then I excused myself from the room. Maybe I could've taken this all as nonsense but there was one thing he said that legitimized it all. When he said "There is something worse than The Devil", there's no way he could have possibly known Kuza had told me the exact same thing.

Whatever this thing may be, let's hope it has a weakness. If it's pure evil, I'm not sure I can fight it. I can't kill a spirit but I'm sure as fuck going to make sure it doesn't fuck with my family. Ricky needs to see Kuza first to fully understand what this has turned him into. Whether he likes it or not, I'm dragging him down to that cell.