Max had finally defeated the Wizard. The land was once again free and safe. Unfortunately, he and his friends could not return to their realms. Max was the new Wizard of New Town—he had responsibilities. One such responsibility was to investigate the strange reports of ghosts.

Max immediately journeyed for the town square. The townsfolk, a collection of humans, elves, dwarves, and other mystical creatures, fled from the six dark ghosts who walked the streets with an arrogance unmatched by any Max had seen. Each ghost looked to be wearing a hat, kind of like a fedora, but it wasn't clear. The hat looked like it was part of the ghost—like their heads just formed into a hat.

Max's mouth dropped in fright and worry. He knew that these were not ghosts. "Shadow Men," whispered Max. The Shadow Men were people from another reality. They appeared as shadows because they couldn't fully transport themselves across realities. Only a small part could make it across the barrier between realms, thus making them shadowy and intangible. The Shadow Men's only goal was to destroy Creation.

When Max first encountered them, he, like most people, assumed they were agents of Evil or Death—seeing as they wanted to destroy Creation, but they aren't. As the Shadow Men said, "Evil and Death are Something. You can't have Evil without Good. You can't have Death without Life. Evil and Death are part of Creation. We serve the empty, formless, Chaos." The Shadow Men saw Creation as unnatural. "Darkness and Chaos are the true states of the universe," they claimed. "If you turn off a light, there is darkness. Everything eventually falls to Entropy. The universe will cool and shrink and finally return to its formless sea."

In order to speed up the "death" of Creation, the Shadow Men travel from realm to realm creating chaos and darkness (not necessarily evil—they sow chaos). They destroy the Light-slash-Order of that realm. Once there is no more Order, the realm falls into the Abyss, the Nothing before Creation. The only thing stopping them is the faith, emotion, magic (call it what you will) of sentient beings, like humans. Their "fandom" replenishes the phantasmic (or Dark Matter) matter-energy that sustains the universe. The people of BLT International realized that sentient "positive fan emotion" kept the realm alive, so they began sharing the stories of the realms in order to gather that fan-faith.

Max finally exited the turbulent sea of townspeople. The six Shadow Men stopped upon seeing Max. Max pointed his magic wand, Phil, towards the Shadow Men, ready to strike.

"Make your move, you scallywags," said Phil.

They did.

They vanished. Max scanned the square looking for any sign of them.

"Max," a whispery voice said in his ear. The voice sounded calm and soft, but it wasn't. It didn't have the calm sound of a friend or loved one; it carried the icy, calm sound of someone who loved to torment. The voice faked calmness and loving.

Max's eyes widened. The world swooshed  into darkness. A junior high school gym blinked into existence.

"Kyle," said a voice. Max turned to the voice. Some part of Max found it odd that this person called him "Kyle," but the main part of him accepted it. It felt like a dream. Max believed this vision was reality, but at the same time knew it was just an illusion.

The voice belonged to a young teenager. Kyle recognized him as one of the many who bullied and tormented him. "Kyle, do you have a screwdriver?" The bully gave his crew a knowing smile.

Strange question, thought Kyle, but he answered anyway. "No."

The group of bullies laughed as the leader bully said, "I always knew it."

The scene faded into the shadows only to be replaced by another.

It was raining. Kyle and the other Boy Scouts were on a camping trip. Kyle stood out in the rain as the other scouts and leaders huddled under the campsite's tarp, warm and dry. Kyle took a step towards the tarp. "No," said someone with a stern face. Kyle took another step. "No," said someone, maybe the same person. "Freaks like you aren't allowed."

Kyle turned and headed for his lonely tent. His mind flashbacked to the organizing meeting for the camping trip.

***

"No," someone said. "I'm not having Kyle in my tent."

"He's not bunking with me," said another.

"No way!" said another scout.

"How about we stick Scout A with him. He's not here tonight," said someone else.

Another person chuckled. "Yeah, that's what he gets for not coming; he gets stuck with Kyle."

Of course, Scout A complained and now Kyle had his own tent. The ride to the campsite was just as "fun." No one wanted him to ride in their vehicle. Kyle was bounced from vehicle to vehicle until finally the leader grew annoyed by the loss of travel time and shoved Kyle into a random vehicle.

***

As Kyle slipped into the sleeping bag, memories from other camping trips snuck their way into his mind. On one trip, he wasn't allowed within 50 yards of the main part of the campsite. He had to sleep off by himself. On another trip, the other scouts threw a snake at him. During another trip, one of the scouts became angry because they wouldn't let him cut in the "chow line." He took a baseball bat to a tree just as Kyle was walking up. If Kyle had been a second earlier, he'd been the tree.

In time, Kyle drifted into slumber, his only sanctuary.

He awoke, as he normally does, at four in the morning. It was a habit developed from years of working a paper route; plus, it gave Kyle an hour of freedom from the others. While the others snored, he got to see the sunrise and listen to the birds and, on occasion, see a fox or other animal.

The scout leader wanted all the boys up by five. If they weren't up, he went around and smacked them with a broom. Each morning, the leader visited the campers and whacked them with the broom; and every morning, the leader would shoot Kyle a dirty look because he was up thus making it so the leader couldn't whack him.

Kyle couldn't wait till he was no longer a scout. His parents wouldn't let him quit—scouting builds character. Besides, scouting was a rite of passage in the Church. Every of age boy had to go into Scouts; just as every male had to go on a mission. Oh joy, Kyle would think, two years filled with some companion tormenting me, calling me names, throwing things at me 24/7. Whoo, I can hardly wait.

Kyle's only escape from scouting was to become an Eagle Scout. Normally, it takes till the scout is about 17 (some are 16, some are 18) before becoming an Eagle Scout. There was no way Kyle could survive another five to six years of this; he'd already gone through about four years of it.

Kyle worked hard. In due time, he completed all the necessary requirements to become an Eagle Scout, including leading a service project (he didn't care what it was, just as long as it counted). He finally achieved his freedom when he was fourteen, the youngest Eagle Scout his sector ever had. Kyle finally had his freedom! But, that would come after one final meeting. It was a night of service; the scouts would prepare and serve a dinner for some of the elderly women, some of which were widows. That night finally broke Kyle.

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