Mr. Wrinkles

0:00Tyler Reddick here from 2311 Racing. Another checkered flag for the books. Time to celebrate with Jamba. Jump in at JambaCasino.com. Let's Jamba. No purchase necessary, BTW Group. Boy, we're prohibited by law. CCNC, 21 Plus, sponsored by JambaCasino. I'd only six years old. My daughter Claire is an impressive chalk artist. It's a hobby she picked up last year as winter faded into spring. She started out like most kids do, drawing smiley faces and stick-legged dogs, but she developed her talent at a prodigious rate. By summer, she was able to film most of our driveway with a jungle mural complete with detailed shading and even some interesting perspective shifting. I was fascinated by her ability and dumpster, since her mother and I are both artistically challenged. The next big piece Claire created was a drawing of a family standing out in front of the house. She managed to create an image that totally drew in the viewer, even without all the vibrant

1:00colors of the jungle mural. I told her I was proud of her ocean, I stood in the driveway staring at our own smiling faces chalked in the concrete. Someone was smiling though. Claire had drawn her mom standing next to herself, opposite me. Her mother Ellie was the only one without a happy expression. Claire spent weekends with her mom and I tried my best to stay out of the business and let Ellie be her own parent. However, I felt the blank and almost said expression Claire had given her mother warranted some concern. Is mommy okay, kiddo? I asked her a while I crouched next to the powdery depiction of her mother. She looks a little side in your picture. Claire copped her head to one side in a dramatic effort to appear deep in pot. I loved her in just spective nature. Coming an amateur artist had given it a little jolt. I don't think she's sad, Claire said. She's just really tired. Mr. Wrinkles keeps her awake all night. Mr. Wrinkles. A traffic jam of a dozen questions got stuck between my brain and my mouth. Most prominently, who was this guy spending the entire night in the house where my daughter slept?

2:00What hadn't he been mentioned to me? And one particular question I tried not did well on too long. What exactly was he doing that kept Ellie up all night? Judging by the state of the apartment complex Claire's mother lived in, I assumed she wasn't doing very well financially. Believe me, I offered to help her many times for Claire's sake, but she would always turn it down and say she wanted nothing to do with me or my money. Could Ellie be prostituting herself for rent? Another possibility, one that I hoped beyond hope wasn't real, was that she had gotten hooked on something again. I'll spare you the whole story, but she left me after I tried to help her get clean the first time. She managed to do so on her own when she was told she could only have partial custody of Claire where she was clean and sober. I didn't want to think Ellie could have slept back into the habit, but decided the possibility warranted a discussion. Who's Mr. Rincolns? I asked after what was probably too long a silence. Is he nice? I don't know, Claire answered. He only talks to mommy. She sounded truly apathetic about the whole thing. A good sign, I told myself. So he doesn't bother you? He doesn't touch you?

3:01I almost choked in the word touches even the thought of it made me sick. Claire just shook her head as she fixed a couple smudges on her drawing. I decided I would still have a conversation with Ellie but to drop the subject with Claire. The next morning, a Saturday, I was getting Claire situated in my car to take her to Ellie's for the weekend. Before I got in, I noticed something strange about Claire's drawing on the driveway. I told her to wait a second and walk behind the car to get a closer look. Ellie's face had been completely smeared away. The pristine condition of the rest of the drawing pointed to intentional vandalism. I noticed something small and purple next to where Ellie's face used to be. It might have been a plastic shaving or a broken fingernail. We were already running behind, so I picked it up, put it in my pocket and returned to the car. Claire was getting her things out of the back seat when I asked Ellie if she had been near my house. She denied it angrily and acted insulted. I knew she was lying though. I recognized the shifty look in her eyes, which were drooping with exhaustion. And there was something else. I didn't get along enough to see if one was broken, but her nails looked like they

4:02had been painted recently. Bepple. The sim shade is the little shaving I found in the driveway. The odds of someone else stopping by our house, racing Omi Ellie's face, and happening to have purple fingernails seemed pretty slim to me. I knew she had done it, but I couldn't imagine any good reason for it. Before she boiled over and slammed the door in my face, I wanted to bring up a more important subject. After sending Claire inside, I asked Ellie about Mr. Wrinkles. She became indignant again at the mention of the name. What happens in your house is your business, and what happens in mine is mine. She stated bluntly before turning away. I tried to tell her I could help if she was in trouble, but she slammed the door in my face. Typical. I could only pray whatever was going on with her wouldn't affect our daughter. She loved Claire that much as true. So I just had to trust her and hope that she would never let anything happen to her. A few weeks later, life had returned to normal. There was no mention of Mr. Wrinkles, and no more trouble with Ellie. I decided to draw another family portrait on the driveway. It was cute, but sanding at the same time. She clearly still thought of us as a family and wanted us to be together.

5:05Ellie apparently didn't like that idea. Claire and I were leaving for school when she screamed and ran over to her drawing. This time, Ellie's entire body and face had been wiped away. Dried blood was smeared near the edge of the blur. I imagine Ellie furiously rubbing and scratching at the images I tried to come for Claire. The bullgirl cried the whole way to school. She was heartbroken, and I didn't know what to say. I called Ellie when I got home and was shocked when she answered. I told her what happened about how it made Claire feel and was open about my suspicions. I even told her about the Finder and Ellie found the first time and how it looked like it could have been hers. She surprised me again by admitting she had been the one who vandalized Claire's artwork. I'll write, Kevin, you're right. It was me. Both times, she said. But why don't let her draw me anymore, she pleaded. I was surprised by the genuine concern in her voice. It wasn't anger or even mild frustration. It was fear. Ellie Claire misses you when she's not with you. I can't ask her to stop drawing pictures. It'll break her heart. Look Ellie replied.

6:07Her voice seemed hushed. The kind of voice someone uses while they are looking over the shoulder. I don't know how it works or why, but he follows me. Even just my picture can attract him, draw him in. I can keep him away from her here, but I don't want to have to worry about her there too. Mr. Wrinkles. I asked. If you're in trouble, just tell me, I'll do anything I can. You know I still care about you and I wanting to be safe. Just don't let her draw me anymore, she's said and about plea hung up. I felt heavy and defeated. Not because I was worried about Mr. Wrinkles, but because I thought it might be time to revisit the custody agreement. I was worried about Ellie's mental state. Claire brought a pencil drawing of a stone from school that day. Honestly, chalk was her best medium, but the sketch offered a passable likeness to our broken family. I only considered Ellie's warning for a second before I put the drawing on the fridge. I should have listened. I was woken up that night by a distinctive creek from one of the floorboards in my hallway. I set up and listened. When I hurried the sound of a hand grabbing the door and up to Claire's bedroom, I shot out of bed and into the hole.

7:08The hallway appeared to be empty besides a piece of paper laying on the floor. I flipped in the lights and saw it was Claire's drawing from the fridge. I peaked into her room just long enough to see her little form rising and falling under the covers as she snored. All seemed well besides the relocated drawing. I wanted to believe I had imagined the sounds I heard, but then how did the picture end up in the hallway? I'd Claire put it there? It seemed unlikely. Returning to my room, I picked up my phone. I was going to call Ellie and demand to know she had been in my house, but I had a text from her. He found you, it said. Below it was a second message in all caps. Yet out. I stared at the decks from my ex-wife. He found you. Get out. Anger and confusion draped on my tied mind. What game was she playing at? It had to be drugs with some kind of psychotic episode that was causing her to behave this way. There was no rational explanation for why she would keep coming over and messing with close art at night. I knew she had to be hiding close. I'd come into the hallway too quickly for her to have gotten far. I replied to her delusional warning if you don't come out now and call in the police.

8:12I froze and listened. The house was quiet enough that I should have been able to hear her phone vibrate. Too much time passed without a sound which confused me. Had she turned her phone off? Apparently not, because my phone started vibrating and lit up with the photo of her eye assigned to her contact. The screen flickered and flashed. I'd never seen it do that before. I had just taken my phone off the charges so I knew the battery was fine. It went dark again, just for a second. That when it came back on, the photo of Ellie had been altered. Her eyes, her playful blue eyes, had turned black. In the center, where her people should have been, were tiny green dots. I stared at the disturbing image long enough to convince myself I wasn't imagining it. Phone stopped buzzing in my hand and went dark. I looked once more through the crack I had opened and Claire's bedroom door. Someone tall and shrouded in shadows was standing near her bed. His large form was blocking my daughter from view. Claire, I shouted as I lunged forward. The monstrous person turned to me and I saw two green dots where his eyes should have been, just like the photo of Ellie.

9:13I slammed into the door only to have it slam me back. It closed hard enough to knock a portrait of Claire off the wall in the hallway. I pounded in the door as I affrontically turned to the knob to no avail. The door had no lock. He was holding it shut. After one more futile effort to break down the door, I dropped my phone and ran outside. As I dashed to Claire's bedroom window, I picked up a decorative rock from the side of the house. I pounded on the window and yelled, get back. I heaved the rock with all my strength and it smashed through the glass. Claire screamed. I'm sure I heard her scream. The sound of her cries and the adrenaline coursing through my veins made me oblivious to pain. I grabbed the jagged window frame and hoisted myself up through it. As I tumbled into Claire's bedroom, slick with sweat and blood, I screamed, get out, but no one would hear me. The room was empty. There was no green eyed monster. There was no Mr. Wrinkles or Ellie and there was no Claire. I checked beneath the covers, under the bed, in the closet, and everywhere else a small child might hide. In complete panic, I started shouting for Claire as I checked under the bed and in her closet

10:14again, but perceived no response. I went to her door, which opened easily now. My phone was on the floor in the hallway. It vibrated across the hardwood with another call from Ellie. What I picked it up, I didn't wait for Ellie to make a sound. What's going on? Where's Claire? I demanded. What? No, no, no, I told you to leave, she screamed in my ear. Ellie, you have to tell me what's happening, I begged. Who is he? Who's Mr. Wrinkles? There was a loud knock on the front door. Police opened up a man called from outside. I hadn't even noticed Claire's room was going with flashing red and blue lights. The police officer knocked again and I went to the door, worried he might break it down if I didn't open it quickly. The fact that I had blood all over my hands and shut didn't register until I saw the look on the office's face as I opened the door. Down, he yelled as his hands moved toward his hip. I saw the gunner and dropped to my knees with my red hands raised. No, officer, I live here. This is my house I stammered. He rushed in and grabbed one of my wrists pinning it to my back.

11:15He forced me the rest of the way down and cuffed me. As he spoke some code into his radio, I tried to explain that my daughter was missing. He finished his cance mission and yanked me upright. Her daughter. He asked, I nodded tears now streaming down my face. His batch, send more units. He spoke again into his radio. Child of this location is an accountant for copy, sending more units. The officer returned his attention to me and said, you'd better start talking. And I wanted to. But what could I say? I didn't understand what had happened and I knew if I told the officer what I saw, he would think me insane. My salvation came in the form of a text. My phone, which was on the floor between me and the officer lit up. He picked it up before I could see what the message said, but he read it loud. It says he has her. He showed me. I don't know what to do now. He paused and looked at me with hostile accusation in his eyes. Sirens approached in the distance. Proo has her. He demanded. I snorted and swallowed a wad of mucous.

12:16I pinched my eyes to push out the remaining tears before I looked up at him and said, Mr. Rinkles. Hey, it's Cole Swindle. And when I spend 200 days a year rolling down the highway, the bus can start to feel smaller than a guitar case. Everyone wonders how I stay chill while the hours crawl by. Truth is, one good luck spent on Chamba and suddenly the trip was a whole lot shorter. Found in your space, even when there isn't much to spare. Need some chill? Let's Chamba. No purchase necessary. VGW Group Boyd were prohibited by law. 21 plus TNC supply. Sponsored by Chamba Casino. The officer drove me to the station and left me coughed in an empty interrogation room. Before police had arrived at my house while he was putting me in a back seat, and as I sat alone in the interrogation room, I imagined the police were on seeking my home. I knew they meant well. I knew they just wanted to find Claire. So did I, but they wouldn't listen to me. Of course, it's hard to blame them for not believing a story about a shadowy man named Mr. Rinkles whisking my daughter away in the night. I only wished I could speak with Ellie.

13:18Despite her bizarre behavior, I thought she might at least have an idea of where our daughter could be. Her last text had ended with, I don't know what to do now. Maybe we could figure that out together. I keep finally scraped and clicked in the door, and the officer who rested me entered with a lumpy man in a wrinkled grey suit. A detective, I deduced from the late night crime dramas I frequently fell asleep to. He carried a file in one hand, and a steaming paper cup in the other. The whole room took in the cheaper room of Maxwell's house. As the detective sat his cup of coffee on the table. I saw his name badge. Oldinger. A strong name. Intimidating. Mr. Davis. Oldinger spoke. It's Davis. Kevin Davis. Right. My apologies, Mr. Davis. His voice was devoid of apologies. He drew out the heavy chair across from me and sat down without looking up from the file he held. The officer positioned himself like a statue in the corner where he watched me intensely. Seeing him just standing there infuriated me. Why wasn't he back at the house, hoping to find my daughter?

14:19The Jeffers here briefed me on your situation, but I'd like to hear your version as well. If you don't mind, Oldinger finally said. Of course I don't mind, but you need to talk to my wife, Ellie. She tried to warn me about whatever happened to Claire. He ex-wife, the detective corrected. He seemed to take perverse pleasure in pointing out my mistake. Yes, sir, my ex. Ali Frankel. We're talking to her, too. Don't worry, Mr. Davis. We're doing everything we can. I need to see her detective. I need to talk to her. As to Davis, he said, I just spoke with her myself, and that's why it is essential for you to communicate openly with me. My discussion with her mess, Frankel honestly just left me with more reason for concern. Now, be straight with me. Is she an abuser of any substance as you know of? My tongue jumped to the roof of my mouth, forming the end and no, but the word didn't escape my lips. Oldinger picked up on my obvious hesitation and wrote something down in the margin of his file. Wait, no, that's alright, Mr. Davis. I understand. She's the mother of your child. I understand.

15:20You swipe the pen off the page in dramatic fashion, then turn to his gaze to me and continue to your ex. Wife is blaming your daughter's disappearance on a curse, which craft Mr. Davis. Now obviously this department can't really do much with the story. It isn't a very compelling Ali, you could say. She did discuss this Mr. wrinkles you have also mentioned. Is he someone you know? Friend? Family? I shook my head while looking down at my interwoven fingers. If the late Nikron dramas were to be believed, everything about my body language was setting off alarms in the detector's mind. The signals were screaming, liar, liar. But I wasn't lying. I was just defeated. I didn't have a better story to offer than Ali's. If they didn't believe her, why would they believe me? Why would they believe the guy they caught in the house with blood on his hands? I saw someone in her room and when I tried to get in, he held the door shut, I explained. I went outside and smashed the window. I swear I heard her screaming when I threw the rock. She had to have been in there still. Why don't you sound sure of that?

16:21He asked. I noticed one of Officer Jeffers eyebrows raised in the corner. Well, well, when I went through the window, she was gone. And that was when Officer Jeffers. Wait, how did you know to come? Jeffers took a step toward me. Dispatch got a call from your ex. She gave him your address and said her daughter was in danger. Then she just hung up. Oh, was all I could doubt her. I was beginning to see how the situation appeared to these men. So do you understand our position now, Mr. Davis? Aldinger asked. Look, you can test the blood on me. There's still plenty on my clothes, see? I grabbed a part of my shirt with a dog's blotch. It's my blood. I cut my hands on the window, see. I held up my hands. They had each been wrapped in go-as-after. I was brought to the police station. A little blood had seeped through the porous material, creating ugly red stains outlined with sickly yellow borders. Aldinger returned to officer Jeffers. Go ahead and bring the lady in, he instructed. To me, he said, we will test that blood. I'll collect a sample.

17:21I'ma let you speak with Ellie for a bit. He too are, we're fine. There won't be any trouble. I showed him. He nodded, closed his file, picked up his now steam as cup and followed Jeffers out of the room. The officer returned a few minutes later with Ellie. She was cuffed and still wearing her pajamas. Her sleepless eyes were sunken in sickly gray circles. She had clearly been crying, but I'd seen her cry count this times. There was something else behind those dreary eyes. As Jeffers closed the door, Ellie sat across from me. Oh, Kevin, what are we going to do? She asked. She sounded like she might collapse in tears again. You've got to tell me what's going on, Ellie. Who is Mr. Wrinkles and what does he have to do with Claire? Did you see him? She asked. I nodded slightly just enough to indicate I had. I assumed everything we said or did was being recorded, and I wanted to be careful to remain a credible witness. Hell, I was the only witness in the key suspect. Anything I said could and would be used against me in a court of law. Ellie sighed. She was staring at her lap as I had earlier.

18:22I recognized the same defeat I was feeling. I relapsed, she admitted. I couldn't tell you. I couldn't tell anybody. I was am so shamed. She couldn't contain her emotion any longer. She continued with tears running down her cheeks. I was out trying to school when somebody stopped me and gave me a card for an enemy meeting around a corner. I didn't go that night, but I did a few days later. This week, lady stopped me after the meeting. She gave me some line about being where I was a year ago and told her whole story about getting clean and everything. She said she figured out a way to make it easy to get around all the withdrawal crap, you know. I sat quietly and listened to her talk. I didn't know where her story was going, but this was more than she had said to me the entire time we'd been separated. Anyway, I went to her apartment the next day because she said she would show me what she did. She seemed normal safe. She made me feel safe. She gave me some nasty tea she made herself and sat down on her couch. Then she said a prayer. It was in Latin or something. I started thinking she was some kind of religious nod or something.

19:24I left when she was done and felt fine. Like actually okay. I didn't have any cravings or nausea. I felt good. I felt good for the first time in forever. I really couldn't see where she was going with all of this. I didn't understand how it related to Claire's disappearance. My frustration must have shown because Ellie apologized. I'm getting to it, I promise. It's just this is really hard for me to talk about, you know. I reach my cuffed hands across the table and Ellie copied me. Our fingers embraced the first physical contact I had had with her since before the divorce. Whatever she did to me has nothing to do with drugs or recovery. I think she put a mark on me. We know like for the spirit world. Why would you do that? I asked. I don't know. I can't explain any of this. All I know is that the good feeling wore off pretty soon after I left. And that's when he started showing up. That's when I started to see Mr. Wrinkles. The first time was after I took a shower that evening. I was alone in the shower, obviously.

20:24But when I pulled back to Curtin, I saw him standing right next to me in the mirror. So he's a ghost? No, I think he's something much more evil. He's attached himself to me somehow. I feel like he's always right behind me. I started seeing him in old photos and things, so I took all that stuff down and put it away in the storage. Doing that seemed like it weakened him somehow. It's hard to explain, but that's why I had to keep erasing myself from your driver. Were you watching my house? I wondered loud. Ellie tilted her head towards the light above us because she couldn't look me in the eye. A tear rolled down her cheek and spotted on the metal table between us. I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I just wanted to make sure she was safe. I had to make sure he wasn't following Claire after. After she saw him. She saw Mr. Wrinkles too. She's the one who gave him that ridiculous name. She came into my room while I was trying to ignore him and get some sleep. I pretended everything was normal until she asked me who my friend was. Oh, Kevin, I'm so sorry. Ellie collapsed into an inconsolable, quicky mound. The chains of our cuffs rattled against the table as she shook it in the throes of grief.

21:28You are listening to the first annual Halloween special from the Warning Woods. This is part four of a five-part story that will arrive at its haunting conclusion on October 31, Halloween. If you missed any of the previous parts, be sure to go back and listen to those before this episode and subscribe to the Warning Woods on YouTube or your podcast platform so you don't miss any parts of this story or any of the other stories released weekly. If you enjoy the story, please consider writing a review to help spread the podcast to more listeners. Thank you and enjoy part four of the Halloween special. The blood sample the police collected from my shirt came back with my own DNA, as I knew it would. With nothing but circumstantial evidence to hold us, they were forced to let us go after just a few hours. I could tell the tech devolvinger was frustrated by my release, but what could I say? He had the wrong man. From the sound of Ellie's story, the culprit he was searching for was really no man-addle. We were exhausted. Ellie was still wearing her pajamas and my bloody shirt had a significant portion cut from it for the blood sample, but we stopped at an overnight convenience store anyway. The clerk barely looked our way.

22:28I remember wondering what sort of delinquent chaos the poor man had witnessed for our appearance not to warrant at least a second glance. After purchasing two black coffers and two of those cantriple espresso drinks, Ellie and I drove back to my house. Hey, it's Cole Swindell. After I give everything I've got to land a perfect vocal, I usually take five before jumping into the next track, and I've learned exactly how to recharge in that time. Some folks grab coffee. I hit a quick, good looks, Bill. This thing you know, the break is just as fun as land down the track. A better break makes for a better take. Need a break? Less chumbo. No purchase necessary, VGW Group void were prohibited by law, 21 plus TNC supply, sponsored by Chumbo Casino. I home the crime scene. Police tape had been put up around the perimeter and criss-crossed on the shattered window. I expected Ellie to cry again, but she sat in the passing to seat of my car's pale and emotionless as a ghost. I just can't believe this is happening, she said. Any other could I, but it was happening. The proof was right in front of us, right at the end of the yellow beams from my headlights.

23:31I wanted to say something comforting, but then detective holding her's voice replayed in my brain. Your ex-wife. Yes, sir, my ex. That she was. A fear and grief had temporarily brought us together, but I couldn't allow my feelings to overcome me. If no, when we got close back, Ellie would return to her shabby apartment and leave Claire and I wishing we could be family again. I shut off the car and made the first move to get out. When I wasn't looking, Ellie reached over and placed her left hand over my right. She squeezed a little and sat, be careful, Kevin. He stays close to me. Whenever you're around me, you need to be very careful. I sucked in my resolve and stepped out of the car. Ellie did the same. We pulsed together in front of Claire's truck drawing. Ellie crouched around her finger along the outline of our daughter's face. When she stood, she almost wiped her fingertip on her pajama top, but hastated. She stared at the tip of her finger as if the color dust was actually a part of our daughter. A piece she couldn't just wipe away. Rady, I asked. She responded with a brief, embarrassed smile and a nod.

24:32I stepped over the police tape and she slipped under it. We crunched half frozen grass as we crossed the yard. The shattered windows seemed to be pulling us in. I felt as if it might swallow us. Ellie stopped suddenly and put a hand on my chest to stop me, too. Something crunched the grass behind us. A footstep. I turned to see who was following us, but no one was there. Ellie's eyes were shut so tight they were pulling the rest of her face up toward them. She was shivering and not because of the cold night air. He's. He's here as she motted. An uncontainable rage burned in my chest at this announcement. Oh, I yelled into the night he's here. Is he? Mr. Rincol's, is that you? Ellie clawed at my shirt and hugged my arm. Don't do that. Don't antagonize him. I ignored her. Was my daughter, you creep. What did you do to her? A tinkling sound of gas made me spin around in the spot. A few loose shards must have fallen from the window. Daddy. I stood dumbfounded at the sound of her voice. I think Ellie screamed, but everything seemed muffled and dull in that moment.

25:33It had been Claire's voice of that I was sure, but it sounded distant. It sounded like she was at the opposite end of a lawn tunnel and playing with the echo. Claire. A stammered. A new voice echoed down the tunnel with a horrible laugh. Claire's bedroom didn't seem to be on the other side of that window anymore. The window was the entrance to the void and endless abyss. The pillow shudder on me vanished and this time I definitely hurried Ellie screamed, no. Oh God, no. She ran through the front door. I followed Ellie into my ransacked home. The police had certainly done a thorough job and left me with the job of cleaning up. Of course, in that moment, I barely noticed the mess. I was chasing Ellie down the hall. The hall was seemed to morph and stretch. The door to Claire's bedroom was like a star flying away from us at light speed. I guess that was the time slowing effect of adrenaline. After a brief eternity of running, everything snapped back in place like a rubber band. I collided with Ellie when she stopped in front of Claire's door. We paused to listen. For what, I do not know. The only sound I heard was my own blood pumping through my head.

26:35Wall-bomb, ball-bomb, ball-bomb. I placed a hand on Ellie's back and felt her heart beating at an even quicker pace. Is he in there? I whispered in her ear. She shrugged and shook her head to say she didn't know. I knew how to find out. Open the door, Kevin. Just open the door. The simple task of turning the knob was inexplicably daunting. Was I more afraid of seeing Mr. Rinkles or not seeing Claire? Were the worst possibility by my calculation, seeing them both? I feared I would see both Claire and Mr. Rinkles at the end of the lawn, echoey tunnel from which I had just heard my daughter call Dady just a minute before. I feared I would see them, but I have no chance of reaching them. As if to reassure me, Ellie put her hand over mine in the door knob. Together we turned it. We did not see Mr. Rinkles behind the door. We didn't see Claire either. Cold air from the broken window blasted us as we entered the empty room. It was just as I had left it, except for one horrifying detail. These are all the pictures I got rid of, Ellie said to herself as she scanned the walls. Claire's bedroom walls were covered in frame photos of various sizes.

27:37Some more family portraits, others were of only Ellie and Claire together. A few were just photos of Ellie with her friends or other family members. There were even a few of Claire's drawings. Every image had one thing in common. Ellie. How? I wondered aloud, stepping into the center of the room. Hundreds of Ellie eyes seemed to follow me. I got the uncanny feeling she was watching me from every angle. There was something off about the photos though. In each one, her eyes were just a little too green. I turned around to face the real Ellie. She hadn't moved from the doorway. Her eyes, her real eyes, met mine with panic desperation. His hands were on her shoulders. Mr. Wrinkles was standing behind her. All at once, the dozens of photos fell from the walls in a cacophony of clattering wood and chattering glass. A sadistic smile crap across Mr. Wrinkles' ancient face. I immediately understood why Claire had given him that name. He was aged far beyond the condition of an elderly man. The deep lines that covered his skin were marks of an infinite age. His face made him seem as old as time, but he stood tall and strong just the same.

28:38In order of how surrounded him, power and seething hatred. I saw the already pale skinnier Ellie's collarbone grow whiter as the towering man grouped her tighter. His jaw remained in place as the rest of his head dipped back and a whistling monsolythered out of his throat. At the tail end of the moon came a familiar, echoey cry, daddy. His head rocked back into place and I saw Mr. Wrinkles' eyes had transformed into hollow portals. Ellie let out a muffled whimper, but I couldn't look away from the two swirling lens's man's face. I thought no, I definitely saw Claire where his pupils were just a moment before. Each I reflected that endless, ethereal tunnel and my daughter was stumbling hopelessly at the end of it. I'm here, Claire, I shouted in a deep course voice I had never heard come from myself before. The world around me no longer felt real. Every instinct of self-posservation evaporated, even the immediate danger threatening Ellie faded into the background. All that matter was the little girl at the end of that tunnel. Then, with a blink, the nan's eyes returned. The image of Claire was replaced with a hostile green Claire. Ellie collapsed and conscious. Her limp body was all that stood between me and the malevolent being.

29:42His hideous face dared me to make a move. Abandoned by any concern from my own life, I launched across the room. He didn't flinch. I nearly tripped as something caught my ankle and the stumble brought me within six inches of Mr. Wrinkles. He looked down upon me with those hateful, emerald eyes, and avenge for Grimm's caused his face to wrinkle even more. No Kevinweight Ellie groaned. For what? He has clear. The venom in my voice did not phase the giant nine before me. He's trapped. He's powerless, she said. The horrible had turned from me to glare at Ellie. Something about the malice had expressed broke through the protective shield I had directed and stabbed an icy cold dagger of fear into me. He can't hurt you, Ellie continued. He's here for me. Just me. Claire is part of me, but that's it. Just a part. He needs me. My blood. My flesh. Nay. Mr. Wrinkles Grimm is morphed into a smile. He tried to step around me as he reached down toward Ellie. I didn't understand how she knew it, but somehow she had connected to Dotson and locked

30:42the evil secret, the horrible key to our daughter's return. Without thinking, I dove down and covered Ellie's body with my own. I wrapped my arms around her tightly. No, you can't have her, I shouted. I felt on a natural cold when coming from all around. It seemed we were trapped in the eye of a tornado with death and destruction swelling around us. I kept clinging and shouting, you can't have her. You can't have her. The relentless wind stole my voice, but my hold on Ellie remained firm. I clutched the fabric of her pajamas and squeezed my arms and legs around her trembling body. Then the gale began to wane. It faded to a whimpering wind, then a gentle breeze. With a final whistle, the room became still again. My arms were still wrapped tightly around the body beneath mine. Daddy? I heard Claire's voice ask for me again, but the hollow echo was gone. It sounded clearer, more present. It was coming from underneath me. I opened my eyes to look around. There was no sign of Mr. Rincol's. I relaxed my arms and sat back on the floor. There she was. Claire.

31:43It was her I had been holding. Where Ellie had been just moments before, I now saw my little girl looking fearfully dazed in her disorder bedroom. Claire, I shouted with relief and drew her close. Oh, Claire, are you alright? She sniffled and choked. Her little arms felt so cold. She was shivering or trembling. He took mommy away, daddy. Mr. Rincol's took mommy away. My wife. Not my ex-wife. That is not the way I think of her now gave herself up to save our daughter. Any wrong she may have done in the past, any pain she caused was erased as far as I'm concerned. I've dedicated every waking moment, anytime I'm not with Claire to learning the origins of Mr. Rincol's. I've tracked down that narcotics anonymous group where Ellie met the woman she believed started all of this. No one there remembers that woman. I don't know her name, what she looks like, or where she lives. All I know is that I have to find her. I have to force her to help me get Ellie back. I have to make sure at any cost that she stops what have a game she's at. I have to make sure she never sends Mr. Rincol's after another living soul.

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