Flashback 206: Humanitarian -Kelly-

"You are hereby banished from these lands for the crime of loving a human. You are to never return and your powers will be stripped away from you until I judge you worthy."

I stared at my brother's angry face and saw no change, "But . . . I'm your kin. You can't do this to me!"

"In addition, for the murder of the high priest and priestess, from this moment on no living being will be able to return you any affections. Until your punishment is complete you will spend your days alone."

Pain tore through my body as my powers were ripped away. It was like five thousand needles were inserted in to my body and then shot with massive amounts of electricity. I fell to my knees gasping for air. I grasped at air with my hands toward where my brother stood, "It was an accident. I had no idea. Please, don't."

"Kelly," His voice was cold and heartless, "it was our parents; you killed our parents. So let me tell you this plainly. I don't care if your punishment ends. If I ever see you again, then I'll kill you dead. You will NEVER have your powers back."

He stood and motioned to his guards who grabbed me by the shoulders and dragged me to the portal's opening. Jason was the high priest now, having taken the spot upon the death of our Father. His wife would be the priest and I would be discarded and forgotten, a painful memory that he would force in to hiding until it became relevant. That was the way of the Succubi and Incubi. The way of my people.

They tossed me through the portal as if I were a child.

I felt the car smash in to my side and the air whooshing past as I flew in to a ditch at the side of the road. I felt the pain and knew I was injured, but being inhuman granted me a certain amount of endurance that was much higher than that of normal mortals. I would live, if I didn't move.

"Oh my . . . call 9-1-1! I hit someone!" The voice was male.

"Will . . . is she going to be okay?" Female. Probably a mate.

"Not if you don't make that call." I heard scuffles as the male made his way down the slope to me.

"It's going to be alright." He breathed, "We're getting help."

Humans were so different from my people. My people have stayed the same for thousands of years, unchanging in their habits, abilities and beliefs, but humans are constantly changing. Long ago they were too weak to battle against us, so all the prominent families had their own human settlements to feed from when needed, but now humans had grown stronger and broken away from our control. My people are heartless and cold toward a person of another species while humans had the ability to escape the confines of their raising, and show affection for someone or something different than them.

The cold of the night air was replaced by the warmth of the ambulance and then the cool of the hospital A/C. The sensations were too much and the pain was making my vision blurry, so I closed my eyes and slept.

When I awoke I was looking up at the face of the man that saved me. Beside him stood a young woman and a small child, both of them looking very concerned. The child had tears in her eyes but started smiling once I started moving.

"You shouldn't move much. The doctors say that even though you were very lucky, you shouldn't move much. You did quite a bit of damage to yourself."

"Where am I?", I glanced at the window but it was closed and the blinds drawn.

"You're at the hospital. You ran in front of my car. I thought that I'd killed you."

"What's your name?"

"Will. William Melahn."

"William." My love's name had been William as well. I expected worse to have become of him, seeing as he's the one that dealt the killing blow to both of my parents. "You saved my life. I think I owe you."

"I was the one that hit you with my car. I'd call us even."

I sat there powerless and injured, staring at the face of a man who had the name of my parents' murderer. Yet for some reason I felt calm, peaceful and safe. I felt . . . human.

I never expected to have anything to do with the Other Lands again.

204: Her Scent -Sara-

"Nick, did you see her face? I've never seen her like that." The shorter one pulled himself from the floor.

"What do you expect? That bastard Patrick killed her father. When I get my hands on him . . . " The tall one was already standing. I could feel energy flowing off him, massive amounts not normal for a human.

"We can't worry about that right now. We have to find Crystal before she does something that will get her killed. We don't know how long we've been out, so she could be any-", he stopped talking as he stared at the television behind the counter.

"We interrupt our scheduled programming for an important announcement," The television blared, "Millionaire Patrick Bernauw was killed about an hour ago in a horrible terrorist attack that left 2 guards injured and 7 in a coma. A small explosive was detonated in the bathroom while Patrick was showering, and as of right now the police have no leads."

"Ben, why do I get the feeling this has something to do with Crystal?" The tall one was very pale.

"Shit. We have to get to her now." Ben thought for a second and then pointed up, "You go get Will and Kelly. We'll need the Taxi. I'm going to keep watching to see if they turn up anything. Once you get back down, we'll find her."

The tall one ran for the stairs and I stepped forward. The closer I got to these people, the stronger her scent. It was the smell of completion and I wanted it more than anything. I stepped up to the short one called Ben.

"Uh, Sir?" I tugged at his shirt, "Sir, do you know a Crystal Ferguson?"

He looked down at me surprised, "Yes, have you seen her?"

I smiled my sweetest smile, "No sir, but I want to really bad. I miss her so much."

He watched me cautiously. What had this person been through that made it difficult for him to trust a child? It didn't matter. If he got in the way then he'd die like the others.

"How do you know her?"

I grasped the corners of my dress and curtsied, "I'm her sister. Nice to meet you." I had said it just as several people, including the tall one, came down the stairs. All of the people around wore shocked faces as I looked into Ben's face.

"She . . . uhm . . . " Ben glanced at the tall one as if asking for help, "She never told us about you. She's . . . not here right now, but we're going to get her. Would you mind waiting for us in our hotel room? Where're your parents?"

"My parents went to get me lunch. They told me to find her room and wait there."

Ben turned toward one of the other people; the one with the beard, "Will, take her up to the room. We'll be waiting for you in the car."

"Ben her story doesn't add u-"

"Leave her with Saba to keep an eye on her. We don't have a lot of time." I couldn't help but notice the way he emphasized Saba. I hadn't fooled them, but I would see Crystal eventually and if this Saba person was any trouble, then I'd have no trouble killing her.

"Hey, there. My name is Will, please come with me." I took his hand and we headed up the stairs together. I could tell he was tense. He didn't trust me at all. In fact, by the way he kept glancing at me, I could tell he was trying to figure out what was going on.

We passed a soda machine as we traveled down the hallway and he looked at me, "Would you like a drink?"

"No thank you, mister. I just want to be complete again."

186: Message Through Time -Will-

A few hours after I had been holding my wife I was standing in the hallway again. It was just like my dream, but it felt unreal. It felt like I'd done it before.

I knew that as I walked down the hallway, the smell of blood would suffocate my senses. I knew that the smell would twist in my thoughts as I worked to come to an explanation for the smell and the marks of red that streaked down the hallway. I knew that those streaks would incite visions of my wife running from an unknown assailant, bleeding because of the stab wound that I knew I would find. As I passed the children's room I would note their small feet sticking out from under the bed; surrounded by a puddle of their blood. I knew that I would leap to the conclusion that it wasn't theirs. That some how they'd fought off the attacker and even though I knew it wasn't true, I would push that deep inside to get myself to make it to our bedroom.

I knew the blood on the doorknob would make it hard to open. I didn't need to turn when I heard noises behind me to know what it was. I did anyway, to watch several police officers heading toward me in a run. I didn't hear their shouts, but I knew they didn't want me to open the door. It was all ready too late, the door gave to my weight and I was in the room.

My wife's blood puddled in the corner around her lifeless body. As I went to run to her, I noticed the words on the wall. "It's not a dream."

When I saw that on the wall before, I'd thought it was Patrick mocking me. When I learned that it was written by her, I thought it was a final attempt to comfort me; to keep me sane. Now as I read those words on the wall, I found a different meaning.

I stood there staring at the words as the police moved around me to my wife. If the nightmare I'd had wasn't a dream, then what was this? Why did I have these memories and how is it that these words have a completely different meaning?

She wasn't comforting me. She was saving me in this moment, releasing me from whatever prison I was stuck in right now. Tears ran down my cheeks as I swore to myself that I would find a way to get rid of Patrick. It was his fault that I lived this moment twice. His fault that I learned the true meaning behind the message on the wall.

But how had she known?

The world around me faded away, replaced by reality; replaced by the museum and the creatures inside.

I could still feel the tears.

And the hate.

177: Waking Up -Will-

Light flooded the room that Nick, Crystal and I had been occupying until I could see nothing else. Soft, clean smelling fabric pressed against my face as I opened my eyes to see a sight I never thought I'd see again.

In her slumber, she looked more beautiful than the day we'd met. Every day was like that; something new to love revealed itself every time I opened my eyes in the morning to her beautiful face. It was like a game to be played until she opened her green eyes and smiled. From her delicate chin to her curly light brown hair, there was nothing I didn't love.

It had been so long since I'd seen her face, that I ignored the sound of the bedroom door opening. I was so transfixed, that I missed the patter of small feet as they ran toward the bed.

"Is she sleeping?" A small tug on my side of the blankets pulled me from my captivation and the sweet voice of our five year old almost brought tears to my eyes.

I rolled over to see the innocent eyes of our daughter, Samantha, looking up at me. I tentatively reached out to pat her on the head, worried that this was only some weird dream. When her soft locks of hair got caught between my fingers actual tears dripped on the blanket.

"Is she sleeping, Daddy?"

"Yes, she's sleeping. Let's let her rest for a bit before waking her. Where's your brother?"

Had I dreamed it all? I remembered walking down that hallway, following the smell of blood to their room, as though it had all happened yesterday. It seemed so real, so intense that I'd mistaken it for reality. It seemed like I'd slept for years, a nightmare unrelenting.

"Gary is watching cartoons. I asked him to pour the milk in my cereal but he told me to ask Mommy. Could you pour me the milk, please?" My heart was beating in my chest as she looked at me with the look she gave if she wanted something. The look that always let her get her way.

I glanced back at my slumbering lover and then smiled at Samantha, "Of course I can."

I slipped from the covers and made my way to the kitchen. From the kitchen, I could see into the living room where my eight year old son sat watching cartoons with the volume low.

"Dude, your parents suck!" A voice on the television announced causing Gary to burst into laughter. It'd felt so long since I'd heard his laugh.

In roughly fifteen minutes, both of our kids were in the backyard playing tag. It didn't matter that there was only two players and they would just keep alternating who was "it". They enjoyed just running around.

I felt arms wrap around my waist and her chest pressed against my back. I smelled her light spray of perfume as she rested her chin on my shoulder.

"Don't go to work today.", I felt her arms squeeze my waist as she spoke, "I know you have that big investigation you're working on, but take today off. Stay with me."

Patrick. OCS Industries. Right now, it just didn't seem worth going after anymore. All I wanted to do was stay right here with them. My dream was so vivid and terrifying, that it made me see things differently.

I turned to look into Robin's eyes, "There is nothing that could get me to leave you today."

An unexpected kiss that lasted for what seemed like forever, and an enchanting smile washed all memories of my horrific dream away. I had them back, and I'd never let them go again.

Somewhere deep inside something told me that I was wrong.

Entry 145: Fame and Fear -Nick-

"We need to get these people out of the way!"

It turns out that just getting to the museum would take a lot of time. The second the three of them had stepped out of the building they had been surrounded by news reporters and large groups of people.

"Can't you just make us invisible or something?", Will yelled over the crowds of people.

When Crystal and I ran out of the room, Will had been close behind. Even though he wasn't my favorite person, he was very persistent and had somehow gotten more information than any of the reporters here. I quickly waved to Crystal to head back in to the hotel. With great effort we shut the doors behind us, and fell to the floor in exhaustion.

"I am not the most experienced of Warlocks. I only know a few spells and I'm not even good at them."

Will raised an eyebrow and frowned, "So, you're useless to the group then?", his gaze shifted to Crystal, "Why is he even here?"

I really didn't like this guy, he's very condescending and annoying. I almost missed the response Crystal gave because I was running through my head as to how to get to the museum.

"Eventually he'll be stronger, and that's what scares me." Crystal’s voice was very low and she kept looking in another direction from mine.

My thoughts halted, I stared at her in surprise, "You're scared of me? What did I ever do to scare you?"

"For one, you killed that man on the plane."

"He was a serious threat. If I had left him like that, he would have killed us all. I was protecting my friends, and I don't regret doing that. I wish that maybe we could have helped him but we had no time, and he was too strong." Truthfully, I regretted taking the man’s life even if he was dangerous, but I had to weigh the choices. Either I regret killing a man, or I regret letting him kill so many people; including my friends.

Looking at the way Crystal was avoiding looking at me, I could tell there was more, but before I could ask Will interrupted, "So, I might have missed something, but why do we need to get to the museum if we were told to stay here?"

"The Door Of The Dead is a dangerous mythical object of ancient Egypt. It's supposed to allow a person to speak to the dead, but that isn't what it does. Basically, it reaches out and finds someone’s worst fear, then it changes reality to make it true."

Will looked puzzled but to my surprise quickly accepted what I had said, "So, why hasn't it been activated until now, and how could the ancient Egyptians have mistaken it for a way to speak to the dead?"

"All I know is that it mimics the voices of dead people you know to lure you close. I can't remember anything else. Everything is foggy since I blacked out. Like there's memories that are hiding away."

I didn't mistake the fear in Crystal’s eyes.

Flashback Entry 143: Booze -Will-

Each pound on the apartment door brought a new wave of stinging headache.

"Would'ja just hold on a minute?!", I rubbed my face and then closed my eyes again.

Every time I opened them the world started spinning anew. Every time I closed them I saw their faces. It was an inescapable torture; even the booze failed to rid me of it. Booze? When did I start calling it booze? God, I've really hit rock bottom.

I was jarred awake again by several more earsplitting knocks on the door.

"Hey! Wake up!"

"Go away Chris."

He came by a lot lately. Probably felt that he had to check up on me, or maybe he was just annoyed at how stupid I'd been acting. I don't blame him, I had been acting stupid. Truth is, I didn't care. Everything I'd had was swept out from under me, and there was nothing left for me save what sat in the bottom of the bottle that lay on my chest.

"Get up, Will!"

I closed my eyes again and there they were. Smiling as they got in the car to go home; smiling as they road to death. I'd been too busy investigating OCS industries that I never realized how deep I'd gotten myself. My one mistake; a mistake I don't make often. They'd been waiting at home for them, and me if I'd been with them. I had OCS on its knees. Crippling evidence that would have ruined the company. It would have led to the arrest of the CEO, Patrick Bernauw.

"If you don't get up . . . ", I snapped awake at his voice.

"I was a damn good reporter!"

"I know."

"I had those bastards. Was gonna nail them to their own cross."

"Get up, Will. I'll be waiting in the car."

"What do I have to get up for?! They didn't do anything and they had to die. Just to shut me up. Why didn't they just kill me?"

I listened to the glass shatter as I threw the bottle to the floor and sat up.

I was going to miss them. Forever.

Flashback Entry 141: News Worthy -Crystal-

"I'm supposed to believe these far fetched stories? Do you know what happened to me the last time I went on a wild goose chase after something this bizarre?"

My mind was still reeling after Nick showed up at the door. Something about Nick made me uneasy, which led to this phone call.

"I know. I read all about it. You tried to take on OCS industries over that mass murder that happened a few years back. You claimed to the world you had the evidence to expose them, and then when the day came you backed down, saying it was a lie. Before the incident you were famous for your exuberant attitude; your unafraid, and unrelenting search for the next big thing. From what I read you always had a joke to say, but afterward . . . afterward you pulled back, got quiet and kept your head down."

The silence on the other end of the phone lasted for a while.

"I lost everything because of that. My job, my family, all of my friends; all gone because I didn't know when to back down."

This wasn't why I'd called. The only reason I cared about his past was because I knew it could get him to do what I needed. I don't usually do things that are so underhanded, but my friends were at stake. Nick Brown was dangerous.

"What if I could get you proof of something bigger than that story? If I could give you a story like no one has ever seen, would you do some digging on someone?"

"I'm not a reporter anymore. Call the tabloids."

"My friends could be in danger. I need someone who would actually be able to help."

"I'm sorry."

I had only one more option. "Fine, we're going to be in your area tomorrow. If you want, you can tag along on the case we're working on. Once you see the things we get tangled in, then you might change your mind."

"If this is a wild goose chase then I'm going to charge you for my time. What's that guy’s name that you want me to check out?"

"Nick Brown."

Flashback Entry 140: Truth -Will-

"I could get in trouble for letting you in here, so don't do anything stupid." Paying the cop off didn't exactly get what I'd wanted. I wanted to be in here alone.

"I wouldn't worry, I'm just here to look. It's not everyday that twenty people are murdered by one man. What's his name?", I ducked under the police tape and stepped in to the room.

"Smith. It was horrible, not only did he kill his family, but he fed his friend with their remains."

"Tasty." We traveled down the blood spattered halls slowly. I wanted to take in everything. Beneath our feet glass crunched in a rhythm. I found myself concentrating on it to forget the smell that assaulted us.

"That's not just it. While his friend was chewing, this Smith guy skewered him. It was some of the most gruesome things I'd ever seen. Here's his room, the family killer."

I turned to a small bedroom, and the first thing I noticed was how clean it was. No blood. A single bed with a small nightstand sat in the corner, on top of which sat a bible. The room was almost completely bare, besides a small picture sitting on the bed.

"I don't think he did it."

"What killed these people? He was found with the murder weapon. He wrote a confession."

"He could have killed his family and friend, but I'm positive that he didn't kill the rest of the twenty people. First, the bed is semi-made; like someone had been sleeping but quickly got up. Also, there are no slippers or shoes."

"So?"

"Do you walk around late at night with shoes on? I certainly don't. He must have woken up and felt the need to wear his shoes."

I walked over the to the door and looked at the outside and then the inside. "There is blood all over the outside of this door, but only one on the inside. On top of that, the spatter was made when it was open, because it stretches across the door and on the ceiling."

"Meaning that something was going on when this door was opened.", the cop seemed genuinely surprised, "I was the first cop on the scene, that door was open when I got here."

"Do you see a broken window? Or other glass objects?" I knelt down and carefully lift a piece of glass with a small yellow sticker.

"Let me see.", he took the piece from me and stared at the sticker, "I know where this is from. I seen it- OW!" He dropped the glass and stuck his finger in his mouth, "Damn it."

I stared at him for a few moments, and when he didn't finish I turned back to the floor. "Something went on here and I don't think the police have all the facts."

I heard a very distinct clicking and turned to see the cop aiming his gun at me and smiling.

"Hey, whoa! Let's not get carried away."

"The sticker came from a company not far from here. OCS Industries, I think it's called."

"In what way does that make it reasonable for you to point your gun at me?"

"Guns don't kill people. People kill people."

"Shit!" I dived in to the bedroom as he fired. I slammed the door shut behind me and glanced around the room, looking for some kind of weapon.

What had I gotten myself into?

139: Punchline -Nick-

Okay, so maybe Carl doesn't die. You have to admit, I had you totally fooled. The rest of the trip was pretty dull and mundane. Crystal got us all on the ground safely, and immediately the plane was swarmed with emergency vehicles, S.W.A.T., and news vans.

We had a difficult time explaining where the terrorist was, but somehow Ben got it across to them. We tried to deny our involvement but since many people on the plane knew what we did, it was difficult to keep a lid on it.

We were interviewed hundreds of times and met with city officials who commended us on our bravery. We were hailed as heroes, though I didn't feel much like one. I had taken that man’s life with out working a way to remove the malevolent presence. What I did was right, I know that. He would have kept fighting until one of us died, and we didn't have the supplies needed to be any help to him.

We'd just gotten back to our rooms that had been completely paid for by the city and Ben immediately began to rip in to me.

"What the hell was that?!", Ben sounded angry. Carl and Crystal ducked away to another room to open their bags.

"What do you mean what the hell was that?" Somehow I knew what he was talking about, maybe the decision weighed down on my conciseness.

"You killed someone up there, and your lucky I didn't just have you turned in."

"What was I supposed to do? He was going to kill one of us; all of us. You wanted me to just sit there and let him do that? It was us or him." I stared him in the eyes and honestly, Carl and Crystal avoid my gaze, but Ben has always looked fearlessly straight in to it. It was kind of frightening, and while I didn't understand the reaction of the others, I had expected the same from Ben.

"You don't have the right to deci-"

That's when several things happened at once. A loud crashing sound was heard coming from Carl's room. The closet door swung open spilling out a young man, and a small bear burst in the bedroom door, running as fast as he could.

"You rotten little bear! I'm gonna kill you!", Carl's voice could be heard through the walls. In moments he ran in to the room his entire upper torso soaked with black ink.

The man on the floor stood up fast and held out his hand toward Ben, eyeing the animated bear as it dodged Carl's attempts at capture.

"Hello, my name is William Melahn. I'm a reporter from IWTG News." He looked at Ben's confused face with a look of mischief.

"You were in my closet." Ben didn't shake his hand.

"When you got off that plane claiming to have dispatched the terrorist, I was skeptical. Just the fact that there was no body made me wonder what your real motive was. So I hid in your closet, waiting for any kind of information."

"And?"

"And I think that the News tomorrow is going to be very interesting."

There was a smile on Will's face as though he'd just won a game.