Easter Sunday 2004, Burgess, America

Jack sat in the cafe sipping a coffee, a newspaper in his lap. He had read about some kid, "Jamie Bennett", being attacked by something unknown. He was in hospital recovering from major injuries and they didn't know if he'd make it over the next few days. Well, that was what they said, although the press always over exaggerated everything, so the kid could live another 60 years and be perfectly healthy. Or die in his sleep.

"Refill?" One of the waitresses asked with a fake American accent.

"No thanks." Jack said, looking up and smiling under his trilby.

Jack quickly finished his coffee and left, when he opened the door he was hit by a brisk spring wind and heavy rain, glad to have brought his trench coat he fastened it up and pulled the trilby lower over his face. The rain seemed unusual, it seemed warmer. Unlike normal rain, this had less of the gloomy and depressing feel, but more light and a reminder that there would be a better day soon to come. After several minutes of walking Jack noticed something, a small flower. He walked over to it and figured it was nothing. Although before he could so much as turn around a sack was thrown over his head and he felt something hard collide with it.

"OW!" He called, falling to the floor.

"Hit him again." He heard a female voice call, then another blow was struck to the back of his head and he lost consciousness.

April 13, 2009, Unknown

Jack lay on a hard surface unmoving. He was fully awake, although he didn't have the strength to do much more than open his eyes. Once he started to gain some more strength he tried rolling his body over, up until now he had been facing a wooden wall. So, he rocked his body to the left and noticed that he couldn't move his arms. Then he tried kicking out with his legs, no movement there. So he tried to 'wriggle' over to one side and away from the wall. One inch. Two inches. Stop. He found that he was held still by something.

'Great. Just fucking great. I get kidnapped on Easter! How could my life get any worse?'

Jack thought to himself, finally giving up and allowing his head to fall onto the surface beneath him. Then he heard someone talking in the distance, no two people. One of them he recognised, the female voice from the head injury. And another voice, it sounded gruff, but not aggressive and had a really, really, great Australian accent.

"Well, we can't just leave him in there!" The Australian said, sounding very annoyed.

"Just wait until the others arrive, then we'll decide!" The female voice insisted.

"NO! North told me about you and baby tooth hitting him around the bloody 'ead!" The Australian shouted.

"Well, ah. Umm, we couldn't exactly say 'hi, can we send you through a magic portal to Santa's workshop so we could make you defeat an immortal?' could WE?" The female voice screamed.

(April 13, 2009, Santa's Workshop?)

"Sorry, although you 'couldda' been a bit gentler on 'im" The Australian said, now in a much more 'backed off' tone.

"Sorry, Aster." The female said, also gaining a more civilised tone.

Jack lay there, his brain trying to make heads or tails out of what they had said. Although the biggest question on Jack's mind at the moment was:

Who the hell was behind that sexy Australian voice?

Authors Note:

For anyone who didn't know, a trilby is a hat that strongly resembles a fedora. (If that helps you)