[hr] [center][img]http://data.whicdn.com/images/147504610/superthumb.jpg[/img] [h1][color=green]Roddy Callahan[/color][/h1] [hr][hr] [i]”CALLAHAN!”[/i] Beau’s call was loud enough through the screams of the students for Roddy to hear and he awoke from his recurring nightmare in a cold sweat. The dreams were becoming much more frequent and the searing pain in his back where the bullet went through was changing and becoming far more frequent than it used to be, Glancing to his side, Rod noticed that Lanie was already up. Made sense, she was probably with Ingrid like she always was. What a remarkable woman he had married. Swinging his legs out of bed, Roddy pulled himself with a groan to his feet, suffering the aches and pains of a boxer/fire fighter. He was definitely too old for this shit. A few groggy steps forward later, he was at the bedside table to take his usual morning regimen. The butchers boy hated all the pills he had to take, in fact, he hated doctors or anything to do with healthcare. It wasn’t that he didn’t feel like they did a good job, far from it, he was an avid supporter. It was just an inherit fear that he had had since childhood. Roddy’s morning regiment was set in stone, had been since his days in rehab. Several different pain meds to numb his back, muscle relaxers, vitamins to boost his immune system; it was all very technical and they all tastes like the inside of a nuns hat. Then on the other side of his side of the table were his night meds, a concoction of medications to again, numb the pain and some just to help him sleep. The insomnia was getting better but when he did sleep he was plagued by the worst dreams. Next on the agenda were a few morning stretches just to limber up and loosen up those damaged joints of his. Before he could begin however, there was a chime on Rod’s cell phone, grabbing it from the floor he noticed it was a whatsapp message in the 2006 alumni group. The unknown number in the group had posted a video, curious of course, Roddy pressed play and was aghast at the sight of Charlie Decker on the screen. [img]https://vignette3.wikia.nocookie.net/americanhorrorstory/images/b/b0/Tate_langdon_ep6.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20111119202107[/img] [i]”This town…this fucking town. It’s poison, the entire thing runs like venom in the veins. My father, he tried to save this town and they turned their backs on him. They turned their backs on me and my mother. I don’t understand and they never have cared to understand. Keisha, she saved me for a while but I think she’s going to break up with me soon. I keep hurting her and I don’t want to. There’s something wrong…there’s something wrong in my head. God, why have you cursed me? Why do you make my head burn so much?....Help me!”[/i] Charlie pulled at his hair as tears rolled down his face, his voice breaking into a primal groan as the camera turned off. Rod covered his mouth as his skin went pale. What on earth was that? Why would somebody post that? He hurried down the stairs to find Lanie in the kitchen [color=green]”Babe you need to see this”[/color][/center]