Flashback 216: I Will Not -Indigo-

The first time I saw him I was twelve. I was the eldest daughter of the headmaster of the academy, and as such was always present whenever someone was given an award or a punishment. From when I was old enough to understand, I'd heard legends about Patrick; how he'd been the most powerful child in the academy, how even as a lowly Janitor he was able to proceed in raising his rank. I had always wanted to meet him, but my Father said that he was a very dangerous young man that talks of blasphemy.

"Step up, Patrick." My Father's voice echoed through the chambers.

His handsome features took my breath away as he approached the throne. He stood almost as tall as my Father and had piercing eyes. He stood there with a face lacking emotion, but it was very evident to me that he felt a deep hatred toward everyone in the room. I could see it flowing around him like a windstorm. The control he had over his emotions was unbelievable; like nothing I'd ever seen. He was everything the legends had said and more.

"You speak of a man while you work? Would you mind explaining yourself to me?" My Father was trying to make Patrick comfortable, but it would never work. Patrick had a whirlwind of anger that even my Father couldn't destroy.

"Sir, if you may, this is not why I'm here. I have other things to atten-"

"You will answer, Patrick!"

"Yes," Patrick was unaffected by Father's rage, "Gilfred is the only being that can stop Mardockt. I think people should know that for the coming war. We need to find him, only then is there any way to survive, sir."

At this point my Father's rage matched Patrick's, "Mardockt is dead and Gilfred is an old myth. You will stop spreading these falsehoods throughout the community. We have enough to deal with at the moment."

"I will not."

No one had ever said that to my Father. All my life I'd seen people walk up with an opinion or suggestion and the second my father denied it, they would nod and leave. That wasn't all. Anyone willing to go against my Father's orders was as good as dead, but Patrick had no fear. It was all anger and hatred that flowed around him; a red and yellow inferno that wouldn't be weakened by the presence of any threat.

My Father sat there staring at Patrick for a moment. Then he stood and walked in front of Patrick. He raised his hand back and then down toward Patrick's face. My Father was very strong, the strongest person in the academy and combined with his ability he was practically unstoppable. The force from that swing could end the life of any student. Right then, I knew that the legends of Patrick were over. I would never be able to speak to such an unbelievable person again.

I was wrong. All the anger and hatred that Patrick had flowing around him was absorbed into himself instantly, and I watched as my Father's hand was stopped by Patrick's wrist. A loud smack echoed off the walls and then silence took the entire room. There Patrick stood, his wrist holding back Father's hand while the rest of the people present stared on; shocked by what they'd just witnessed. Dumb-founded we watched as Patrick pushed my Father's hand aside and followed up with a swing that missed my Father's face by inches. My Father had been so shocked that he had waited till the last second to move.

"I'm sorry that you think force can make me agree with your views. It must be disappointing to find out that you can't control all your students like you used to. I don't understand why my talk of Myths and the dead could warrant such a response, but I'm sure you have your reasons. Now, I came here for a reason and I'd like to see the purpose through to the end. Unless you'd like to try again, but next time my retaliation will not miss." Patrick spoke with a smooth voice that was filled with strength, fearlessness and raw power. There was no one in the room who could doubt what they'd just witnessed and many of them were getting up to leave the room; something that I was considering at the moment as well. If my Father and Patrick began to fight then this room would become a war zone.

My Father composed himself and sat down in the throne, "Indeed we did. Let's proceed then."

My Father's anger was still raging around him, but Patrick had no emotion at all; not in his face, not in his aura. In fact, it was as though he was aura-less. His body was surrounded by clear air with no hint of feeling anywhere.

"Patrick, you have done much to prove yourself even after you'd been permanently ranked as a Janitor. As such, I remove the restriction and appoint you into a God-title worthy of your prowess. I hereby appoint you with the title: God of Death." My Father smiled a sly smile.

Patrick frowned, "Sir, that's still a janitorial position and is never permitted to leave The Other Lands. I beg you to reconsider and give me another post."

"You expect me to allow you to spread those lies to the humans from the other realm? You must be kidding. You've got what you wanted, you had your rank increased. Leave."

Patrick bowed, turned and then left. The people witnessing the ranking left shortly after leaving me, my father and his adviser alone.

"Sir. I think it was the wrong choice ranking him after that show of utter disobedience. You should have killed him right then." His adviser chose his words carefully.

"You think I didn't try?" My Father glanced in my direction and then back at his adviser, "He stopped me. He's less than half my age and he just brushed the hit aside."

"Shall I send the guards to pick him up?"

"They can't. We currently don't have any guards with enough poser to stop him. Right now we have him following our rules," My Father rubbed his cheek where he'd been nearly hit, "We don't want to provoke him to start breaking them."

The adviser noticed my Father rubbing his face, "Did he hit you sir?"

"No, but if he had then I would be leaving here in a casket."

Hearing that filled me with awe, fear and longing toward the only person who had made a lasting impression on me.

Patrick.

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.

200: Fatal Shadow -Unknown-

It took me three hours and twelve people to find the exact location of Patrick, and I won't lie; some of those people would have trouble walking for a while. I wasn't cutting corners. I wasn't taking chances. I knew better. You make a mistake or take a shortcut and you're dead. The only thing you can do is be one step ahead of the rest. You have to know the enemy so well that even their preference of cereal isn't a mystery to you.

I'd left them standing there staring after me. I didn't even hang up the phone. It was as though the sound of the death unlocked parts of me I'd never knew existed. An entire lifetime of espionage, and assassination flooded my mind. I knew the points on someone's body that would knock them out, cripple them, or worse. I could get to those spots before they could blink and disappear just as fast. Nothing was untouchable and as soon as I put my sights on a target, nothing could sway my gaze.

I wasn't a meek girl anymore.
I was the seven year old bringer of death.
I was a fatal shadow.
I was the eyes you always feel on you.
I was what made you hesitant to go into a dark room unarmed.
I was Crystal, and I was very, very mad.

Guards were nothing; just targets. They didn't last long enough to be surprised. There were three at the front doors. I always used the front door, because I wanted to spit in the face of my target's security. I wanted them to know when I arrived so that I could easily earn the quivering fear that I deserved to be shown. I left the gun where they laid and instead grabbed a single grenade as insurance. It's not that I didn't know how to use a gun. I could disassemble them in seconds and put them together just as fast. I had a killer's aim, but that was no surprise. I didn't pick them up because I wouldn't need them.

They wouldn't see me.

A group of seven heavily armed men flooded down the hall where I had been just earlier. They knelt to check the status of the door guards. Alive. I needed them to remember me. I needed them to fear me. I needed everyone in this place to know they weren't safe if they crossed me.

I came down like a spider from my hiding spot in a small nook on the ceiling. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven. A single touch and every last one of them would be in a coma for a week. I left the pile of bodies near the door as I made my way deeper into the interior of the building.

I slipped into a room as I heard a voice coming closer. John. My friend working for the wrong side, so he wouldn't get special treatment. Open the door to the face, and a single jab to one of those special places I knew of. He fell like a brick. Not coma, but he'd be out long enough for me to complete what I'd come here to do. I disarmed him just in case. During the time I'd known him he'd done some very surprising things, and there was NO way I was going to underestimate him. Jay and Tim were all that was left to make a move, and the only person that had seen me was Tim. He probably saw my entrance in the video feeds.

After taking John down I turned to the nearest camera and waved.

Jay would be in the library, and Tim in the control room. Simple.

Jay's face felt the heel of my foot before the world went dark. He wouldn't be getting up any time soon. I left the library and made my way to the showers; Patrick would be there unaware of my coming.

The doors to the bathroom were closed and locked, but a hairpin and thirty seconds later that obstacle was gone.

Patrick wasn't human, that much I was aware of. I wouldn't be able to rely on the normal means to do him in. He was also very experienced, and had probably had many assassins try to take him out. He would be ready for me and that wasn't something I could stop. We were in his territory, so I was all ready at a disadvantage. I had to switch it around. I had to change the field of battle so that it fell in my favor, or at least evened the odds.

I closed my eyes and counted to forty, all the while I could hear the shower running around the corner. I could hear his whistling as though he had no remorse or guilt about what he'd done. It drove me mad. I hit forty, turned off the lights, and opened my eyes.

I had already adjusted to the dark so getting to Patrick in his surprised state was simple. My fist said hello to his nose with a crack loud enough to cause my ears to ring. I jumped back as he swung blindly in the dark.

"Who are you?! Where are you!?", he yelled angrily as he tried to hit me.

I silently moved behind him, ignoring the heat of the shower water as my knee crashed into the small of his back.

Patrick went down to one knee faster than I'd expected. I figured that he'd be some kind of monster like the ones we'd faced before. I didn't even fathom that he could possibly be simply human.

"Attacking someone in the dark is pathetic! Attack me to my face you pathetic fool!" His face was fuming, as angry as I could get it.

"You didn't attack me to my face. You went after my Father. You are the coward!"

Even in the dark I could see the blood drain from his face. He hadn't even thought that I would be capable of coming after him. He didn't even think I had it in me to make a one man assault on his badly guarded fortress. It was breathtaking to watch his anger swiftly change to a worried uncertainty. I watched his mind put the pieces together by reading the small changes on his face. A small look of guilt slid over his face and then vanished into anger again.

"You." He stood to his feet, and as I watched him he seemed to gain more confidence, "You killed the only human in this horrible world that I actually cared about. You took Saba away from me, so I went straight after the only people that I could to make you feel my pain. Do you? Do you feel the horrific feeling of loss like I do? After my employee finished his work, I called him and do you know what he told me?"

I could feel my anger growing as he started to explain his actions, as though he was justified in killing such a kind and innocent person.

"He told me that he missed." I felt my heart skip a beat, "He said that he had to sit there and watch your father choke on his own blood for half an hour before death."

My anger erupted with a ferocity I had never felt before. My foot was on his chin, followed by the heavy thumps of my fists bruising his chest, knocking him out of the showers and closer to the door. He tried to retaliate, but the lack of sight made his swings ineffectual and pointless. He leaped through the door, crushing it to the ground. He was moving toward the light so he'd have a better advantage, but I was right behind him.

Before he even got back to his feet I was there, leveraging his weight to catapult him back into the showers where he collided into the wall with a crunch of linoleum. I pulled out the grenade as I moved to the door. My finger yanked the pin as I smiled at his very surprised face.

"WAIT!" Patrick's voice made me hesitate, "Wait. If you let me live, than I can help you."

"Now who's pathetic? Can't you just at least die as something other than a cockroach? Don't you dare try to weasel your way out of this.", I prepared to toss it.

"No. I can tell you how to bring Vincent back."

Patrick had earned some more time.

195: Bite Me -Sara-

"HEY-LO NEW YORKERS!"

My head jerked up from the steering wheel so fast I nearly got whiplash.

"It's me, Jerry, and I'm here to tell you to wake up! Rub that sleep out of your eyes because it's a sunny day in New York and there is a lot to tell. First thing's first, do you all remember the Identity murders?"

There was still a massive pain in my head and I didn't remember anything beyond leaving the apartment. Someone had to have seen me. Maybe they got me to my car.

"Well, the sad news is they've found another victim. A young male going by the name David Lanier, was found brutally murdered in an apartment right across the street from this studio. The way I hear it, the police are looking for a young lady by the name of Sara Coons. They're worried that she might be the next victim."

That's where I had been heading. I tried to recall what had happened but the sharp pain in my head told me to stop. What was going on? I put my hands on the steering wheel and nearly fainted. These weren't my hands. My hands were small, feminine and had painted nails. These were large, masculine and had the words "Bite me" written across their knuckles.

I glanced down at myself to find that I was very male. I grabbed my chest as the panic grew.

"Oh God, oh God someone help me please.", my voice was gruff and dangerous.

I turned to look out the back window and that's when I saw the message sprawled across the back windshield, and what ever was left of a body smeared across the backseat. I bit back my gag reflex and turned to look out the front windshield again.

Who ever it was had been very clearly female, with red hair, and wearing the same clothes that I was wearing when I woke up in the apartment. I bit back the panic and tried to come up with a plan, but what was I supposed to do? Just last night I had been female, and now I'm more male than I'd ever wanted to be. I heard distant sirens and knew they'd be headed my way, so all I had to do was wait.

I glanced back at the message, and then at the steering wheel. What if they thought this was all me? What if they thought I did it? I wasn't myself today; literally. There was no way to explain this to them.

"Hey officer, this isn't what it looks like. See, I'm actually a girl.", I said out loud, "Right, that's going to work."

I glanced at the words again.

'Run, Sara Coons. Run.' in the darkest red.

And that's what I planned on doing.

194: Two Dollars -Crystal-

Three days had passed since the museum incident and we had barely spoken to one another. We were still at the Hotel. We ran into each other often, but silence was the common language.

Vincent's death had hit everyone harder than you'd have thought. We didn't even say his name anymore, and even if we did I don't think I could say it with out breaking down. I had only lived a short time and all ready I had to deal with the death of a close friend.

It was times like these that I wished I had my Father to run to.

We didn't know whether or not to bury Vincent. Instead, we burned what was left of the bear; a warrior's funeral. It wasn't fair. It could have happened to anyone, and it had to be him.

Vincent had saved my life more times than I could remember. When I was younger, before he came to life, he scared away the darkness just by being there. Then he fought for everyone I cared about till his death. Now he's gone and it should have been someone else. Someone who deserved it; maybe me.

Carl says that he died a death worthy of someone great, but the truth is that he was killed while completely unconscious. He was killed in his sleep, which normally would have been peaceful, but this sleep was anything but. Vincent died terrified, fighting and alone.

I stared in to the toy shop at the arrangements of bears in the window, hoping that one of them would get up and start talking. I had been staring for 5 hours now. I had watched as the lights in the shop dimmed and the owner locked the doors. All I had was this hope, and if I looked away then I would be admitting that he's gone.

I shouldn't be this attached because most of the time I knew him he was an inanimate toy, but he came to life. He was a person that I'd come to know. He was a person that I'd come to trust.

"Crystal," Nick's hand on my shoulder pulled me out of my thoughts, "everyone is wondering where you are."

"My Dad bought him for me.", I wiped the wet from my cheek, "He took me to a small toy store not far from where I lived. The store was super expensive, but my dad wanted me to choose whatever I wanted. I was looking at the dollhouses and fake carriages when I saw him. He was jammed between the biggest dollhouse and the wall, and he looked so uncomfortable, so unhappy."

Nick was silent, and I didn't blame him. Vincent was my bear, he'd been with me most of my life.

"I passed over him. I had my eye on another doll that could learn its name, one that would have put my Dad back $600 while the bear only cost $2. I kept thinking about that bear stuck, looking unhappy. I couldn't get him out of my head. I felt so bad leaving him there while all the other dolls would be sold. I didn't want him to not have a home. I got so confused at what I should do. I wanted the doll, but the bear would suffer and never be found."

I knew I was crying but I didn't care. This museum incident had taken its toll on everyone somehow. After the first night in the hotel, Carl vanished and Ben kept himself locked in his room. Andrew had been shunned immediately and violently, almost made me feel sorry for him until we learned what he'd done to Ben. Will spent the last two days trying to convince Kelly that all this stuff was real, and despite what she had seen it still took a lot of convincing. Nick and I were awkward together at best, and at worst we were at each other's throats.

"I chose Vincent because I didn't want him to be alone and scared, but it didn't matter. He still ended up that way and there's nothing I could have done. What was the point of bringing him to life if he was just going to be killed?"

"He was here for you, Crystal.", Nick tried to comfort me, "He always fought to protect you."

"I spent two dollars killing a good friend, Nick. If I'd chosen that first doll, then he'd never been put in this situation. I should have forgotten about the bear, then maybe he would have found someone normal. Maybe he would have protected someone whose biggest problem was children at a schoolyard. No, life had to be cruel. His life wasn't worth the money I spent. It was worth so much more."

"You're still alive, Crystal," Nick put his hand on my shoulder, "and I bet he would have considered that a bargain."

I heard Nick walk toward the hotel.

I stared at the window for another two hours.

189: Common Threat, Common Goal, Uncommon Alliance -Carl-

I was yanked out of the worst nightmare of my life to find myself face to face with one of those horrible Abhorians. The look of surprise was evident on the Abhorian's face even with the deformed shape. It took a step back as I pulled myself to my feet.

In the middle of the room stood Ben and a translucent girl staring at a young boy with a triumphant look. The boy looked just as surprised as the Abhorian, but there was something else mixed with the surprise. I had seen the look before in other Gods that I'd fought. None of them expected me to triumph, and when I did a look of intense fear fell over them. That was on the boy's face right now.

The entire room was filled with noise as everyone who apparently had been sleeping woke up. Next to me Christina pulled herself to her feet, and nodded toward the people in the center of the room.

"The small boy is Bob, the God of Fear." She spoke with an edge to her voice, almost a hatred.

"Bob? He couldn't have chosen something more fitting?"

"What do you mean? Bob is his name.", she sounded confused.

"Couldn't have chosen something that instills more terro-"

"That's not important. Your friend there is in trouble. We have to get over there."

"We're surrounded by Abhorians."

"Yeah, but they aren't moving."

She was right. In fact they were moving away, back toward the door. Fear isn't what motivated them . . . it was almost as though they were being summon back to the door.

The young boy, Bob, noticed their movements, "Where are you going? Who said you could leave? I'm your master. I'm your boss."

They ignored him and kept walking, "STOP! I command it! Listen to me!"

One of the Abhorians turned around and stared at Bob, "You have failed me. You let mere humans get the upper hand and now your fate lies with them."

"You can't take them away from me. This isn't fair."

"Oh, Bob. Dear, stupid, childish Bob. Life isn't fair. Do you think it was fair when you killed the Teddy Bear and the Fairy in cold blood? Do you think it's fair that most of your victims couldn't fight back? Stop being such a coward and face what you've sewn.", the Abhorian turned and continued to walk away.

"MARDOCKT!", Bob cried as the last Abhorian disappeared into the door.

I didn't wait for anyone to speak, I spoke first, "VINCENT! VINCENT, YOU STUPID BEAR, SAY SOMETHING!"

I jumped over a few bodies and ran into the door room toward a tan clump on the floor, "VINCENT!"

Crystal ran up beside me and we both stared at the torn pieces of cloth, the remains of Vincent.

"Carl. Vincent's gone?"

I had never been more angry. Vincent was annoying and completely obnoxious, but he didn't deserve to die. I turned to look at Bob, who was still getting over the fact that he'd been abandoned and was now surrounded by a bunch of people who really didn't like him much.

"Get the children and civilians out of here.", I was shaking with anger as I walked over toward Bob.

Bob watched me with uncertainty hidden beneath a mask of confidence. I'd seen it before . . . many, many Gods looked at me the same way before I killed them. This one would be no different. I stared at his eyes with out averting my gaze or changing my expression. As I approached I watched his expression change and slowly the uncertainty overcame the confidence.

"Christina, watch as I show you proof as to how weak humans are. I'll kill this human . . . and then go to the res-"

"No you won't, Bob.", Christina spoke, "These humans . . . they aren't the same as they once were. I'm not sure what happened but they've grown to be stronger. That one walking up to you held his own against an Abhorian with no magic, or special abilities. He also survived a Sprite curse for many, many years. These people whom you have judged as weak and then hurt, are much much stronger than either of us would have expected. But, Bob?"

Now there was fear laced throughout his face, "What?"

She walked toward the front door of the museum and then turned, "Maybe you should have helped me when I was pleading for it in the war."

With that, she was gone.

"You Bitc-" His sentence never finished on account of my fist smashing into the side of his head.

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.

181: Wake Up -Alice-

The world around me came into focus and I found myself staring off the edge of a massive cliff. An old man lay dead to my right, a look of complete agony permanently planted on his face. The sound of begging behind me made me turn to see Ben fighting against invisible bonds as he attempted to reach the three people locked in battle nearby.

Three children just a bit younger than me fought; a blonde, what looked to be a younger Patrick, and a black-haired one with an uncanny resemblance to Ben. It was Patrick and the blonde versus the one with black hair, but even at two against one the black haired boy didn't look like he was losing.


I glanced at Ben and I could see the suffering in his eyes as he fought to get to them. I didn't care about his suffering, I just wanted to know where I was and how I got here. Things were happening too fast and it was overwhelming me.

"You'll be okay, Alice." A kind-looking middle aged man walked over to me from the left near Ben. I hadn't noticed him before, but the amount of new people I'd met in the last hour was getting ridiculous.

"Who are you?", I spoke as though his arrival was nothing new. It might have been rude but being thrown all over the place was getting tiresome.


"Gilfred Odephius Doorstop." He smiled and slowly I began to feel a bit better, "You can think of me as . . . a needed push, or a hint."


"I don't need a push. I need a time machine." I turned to look at Ben again, but this time his face of suffering actually hit home and I felt tears in my eyes, "Where are we?"

"We're in Ben's worst memory. A time when he was imprisoned and unable to help the people he cared about most."


"Why are we here?"


"Because the ignorant retard that put everyone into their worst feared memory didn't realize what he was doing." He turned to me and smiled, "Lucky for us, huh?"


"What am I supposed to do here?"


"There's nothing you can do. Your part comes later, after this is done. Now you should watch and remember this time always.", he walked over to the black haired boy that was dominating the battle so far. "Alice, I have to go. I can't be in two places at the same time."

With that he pulled a spear from behind him and stabbed it through black-hair's chest. The world twisted and spun as both me and Ben were yanked into the sky. The clouds surrounded us making it impossible to see each other.


"Ben?!"

I felt my feet touch ground and I found myself standing at the top of a staircase. Ben was no where to be seen. The smell that came from the bottom of the stairs made my skin crawl. My skin? I looked down at myself to find that I'd aged quite a bit. I looked to be eighteen, but that wasn't the most disturbing thing.

I was alive.

179: Not Supposed To Matter -Alice-

I walked to the door and as I reached for the knob, a noise behind me made me freeze. Someone was breathing. I turned around and stared at a tall man wearing an expensive suit walking toward me. Something about him made me tremble. There was something in his eyes; something very ancient and powerful.

"Alice. So nice to finally meet you, Alice. I have been watching you for a very long time." His voice made me feel unnaturally calm, which instead of making me comfortable, put me on edge.

"What are you, a pervert?" I retorted.

The man laughed and then shook his head, "You've lived a very difficult life Alice, and you deserved better. Beaten everyday, forced to clean after your parents habit while avoiding your father's drunken rage, and everyday you wished you could die. You wanted it all to end and hoped that you'd feel no more pain."

He knew too much of my thoughts, of my life. I stepped back, "Are you God?"

He stared at me for a long time and then smiled, "No. I'm as far from a God as you can get, and I'm not even sure if the big guy even exists." He stepped forward and held out his hand, "My name is Patrick Bernauw, and I'm here to give you what you really want."

I'd always read stories of deals made with the devil and this sounded like one of those times. I shook my head and stuck my tongue out at him, "No way. You'll ask me to do something later, something I won't want to do."

"There is no catch. In fact, I'm not doing this for you at all. I only choose you because your life needed a change and I felt generous." The way he said generous made the incorporeal hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

"You killed me to make my life better? Did you flunk out of grade school?"

He laughed again, "You are so smart, Alice. Yes, as a matter of fact, I did flunk out of school. Except it wasn't grade school. Have you ever heard of a place called the Other Lands?"

I shook my head still not trusting his words. This could all just be a plan to get me to go along.

"Well, you are a ghost, also known as a Walking Soul in the Other Lands. Walking Souls are the only beings capable of instantaneous travel between this realm and the Other Lands without training. With training a Walking Soul can become a very dangerous being, but that is not important to you. What's important is that you understand that the afterlife humans refer to is the Other Lands."

"Why is that important?"

He stared at me, "I'm trying to give you a better life, Alice. You need to trust me."

"I don't. You're a smelly old man that likes watching a fourteen year old. Even if my Mother couldn't teach me to be careful of guys like you, I'm not stupid." I stepped back again.

He nodded and stood up, "Well, I'll be seeing you again sometime. When we meet again you might think I'm doing the wrong thing, but I swear I'm not the bad guy. The bad guy is a lot worse than me."

"I don't even know who you are! I'm dead, remember?! I'm not supposed to matter anymore!"

He laughed as he walked toward the opposite wall, "Alice, your life is just beginning. Give my regards to Ben."

"Ben? Whose that? Why me? Hey! Stop walking away!"

He turned and smiled, "Ben is the guy that killed you, Alice."

And then he vanished and I was again alone.

But even more confused.

178: Can't Destroy Good -Andrew-

It was like the door exploded. Rays of light flooded the room and the only sound was the glass of the museum windows shattering. This was not the plan. Patrick had not told me about this at all. The light washed everything away and stung my eyes. I squeezed them shut to avoid the pain.

When I opened my eyes I was in a dark, stone room, with a single window high on the wall. Light shone on through it, leaving a bright rectangle on the stone floor. There was no door and the corners of the room were shrouded in darkness.

"I want some cake, Daddy. Not until you eat all your veggies, you scoundrel. Dear, don't call her a scoundrel, you'll give her a complex." A voice from the darkness came. Weakness laced with age could be heard in every syllable.

I stood up and pressed myself against the wall. What was this place?

"Hello? Who's there?", I squinted into the darkness.

"Oh, you've come back. Daddy, does that mean we can leave now? Honey, he might be dangerous. Stay away and let your dad take care of it. Steph, make sure she stays back, you should too. He could be dangerous."

It was me that stepped from the shadows. I looked thin and hungry. For some reason, seeing me standing there filled me with a fear I'd never felt. Something about that other me seeped into my soul, infecting it with dread. I didn't wait for anything to be said, I just ran for the window. The closer I got, the farther away it was.

"It looks like you, Daddy. It is me, honey. I don't like this, Andrew. Stephanie, it will be fine, trust me. Does this mean no more cake? Why are you here? Why would you return after such a long time? After you banished me here, there was no reason to come back."

I turned to face myself and I instantly knew where I was. Panic filled me as I stared into the part of me I'd gotten rid of many years ago. The thin and starved person in front of me was everything that'd kept me from breaking during the torture. It was everything that tore me apart when I thought about it. A solid reminder of what I'd done.

Standing in front of me, was my heart.

I wonder if it's mad?

175: Flashback; New Found Purpose -Melissa- (by Crystal Ferguson)

My sweet, sweet Qaliphus was now dead, and all because he felt the need to save this child. A child who had no business being outside. A child who knew better than to be in the road. A child who should have been in the house, under the supervision of his parents--

The parents.

If they were more attentive, their child would not be dead. More importantly, if not for their neglect, Qaliphus would still be alive. My dream would have become a blossoming reality instead of this shattered mess before me.

I clenched my fists in anger, tears streaming down my cheeks. Filthy humans. Weren't the adults suppose to be more responsible than this? What was the point of them existing if they did not protect their younglings?

All I knew in that instant is that they should pay for their ignorance; they didn't deserve to live.

I turned my back to the freshly deceased and zipped my way up and in to the home. The parents were laughing as the remaining two children played mind-numbing video games. How infuriating.

While they distracted themselves with mindless laughter, I took the liberty of pulling out skewers from a nearby open drawer. They were a tad heavy for my size, but I managed to carry them over to the table, letting them drop with a clatter. The couple looked but quickly shrugged it off, and continued with their conversation.

I picked one skewer up and with all my might, I thrust the sharpened end in and through the adult male’s neck. The female screamed in horror as her husband collapsed, gasping for air. She bent over him, her face stricken in panic. I swooped up the second skewer and shoved it downward, repeating the process for the adult female. She too fell over, noises of helplessness gushing out from her lungs. Both husband and wife flailed from the sudden impacts. After a few minutes passed, both became silent and unmoving.

Feeling justified in my act, I immediately left the bodies behind. As I flew away from the house, I heard the cries of their children as they found the dead parents. Some day they would thank me for freeing them from such negligence. They deserved better parents than that.

As I dashed through the outside world, a boy caught my attention. I came to a stop and hid behind a nearby leaf. An adult male was yelling at him, beating him down with his own fists.

“You worthless sack of shit!“, another fist hit the child, “When in the Hell are you going to man up, boy?! Huh, Carl?!”

The man shoved him, spitting at the ground afterward. He grunted and turned to leave him there. The boy just sat there, his head hanging low.

Such treatment sickened me. Were all adults truly this evil? What in the name of all that is human did children do to deserve such consequence? To my knowledge, children were far more innocent and harmless than that of the adults. They needed someone to protect them; not hurt them.

It was then that I vowed to stop this madness at all costs.

174: Flashback; Shattered Dreams -Melissa- (by Crystal Ferguson)

On this particular day, the children were minding themselves in the living room while the parents conversed in the kitchen. Qaliphus and I were outside the home, sitting on the freshly cut lawn. The sun was high in the sky and the small breeze here and there was uplifting. Traffic was rather light, aside from the occasional, obnoxiously loud vehicle racing by on the road. It seemed as if nothing could go wrong; all was well in the world.

I still remember when he turned to me with a smile and the utter most confidence in his eyes. He knew what he wanted to say, and knew if he looked long enough before speaking a word, that I would tense up. His lips curved more when my body responded in such a way, a nervous giggle escaping my lips.

“Melissa?”, he innocently questioned. Qaliphus knew all too well how to strike my cords with ease.

I jumped a bit, “Yes?”

“I have noticed the amount of affection you hold for me.”

The tingling feelings inside of me rose, making me feel nauseous. I gulped and kept my focus on him,

“Have you now?”

He nodded, his hands gently taking mine. I felt a burning sensation in my cheeks as he and I stared in to each other’s eyes.

His face came in closer to mine, our noses just barely touching. “I must confess that I, too, hold much affection for you.”

Within that moment I felt the greatest amount of happiness. My hands squeezed at his as a true smile broadened across my features. At the time, the youngest had made his way to outside the home. It didn't seem all too important that he was outside; I was too busy soaking in Qaliphus’ words.

“Oh, Qaliphus…”, I leaned in closer, lips practically connecting, “I've waited for so long.”

Our lips made contact, my eyes closing and my wings fluttering from the new, delighting experience. Warmth embraced my very being. Pulling back; out of the corner of my eye I saw the youngest had made his way to the road, swinging a stick side to side. Why in the world was he playing there, and with a stick no less?

What happened next seemed all too surreal.

A flash of red came rushing toward the child. With out skipping a beat, Qaliphus flew to the tiny one’s side. A child’s scream curdled. Tires screeched. And then, a thud. The child laid lifeless on the road, red liquid oozing from his skull. Qaliphus was too late. The person in the red vehicle climbed out, saw what they had hit, and in a panic climbed back in and drove off; the boy’s body being left behind like a wild animal.

I flew over with haste, gasping at the true mess it made. The worst part wasn't the boy’s death. Laying next to him, with his blood spilled beneath, was Qaliphus; unmoving and limp.

It took the longest time for my dream of having him love me back to come true.

It only took seconds for that dream to shatter.

169: Shattered And Reformed, Similarities Bond -Ben-

Right there behind my eyelids the scene replayed in high definition slow motion. Over and over again I saw the child's head explode, and felt the warmth of her blood splatter against my face and body. My choice ended her life. My choice turned me into a monster.

The repeating horror pushed me into a small place deep in my mind, and from there I watched as I began my assault on Andrew. I should have felt bad, I should have stopped myself from desecrating that young girl's body, but I didn't. I could feel the rage, even this far gone. I felt the killing instinct explode as I stopped caring about whether he could breathe.

The anger didn't help get rid of the pain. I had brutally murdered a young girl. Nothing could bring her back. Her parents would never see her again.

"Mardockt." A voice in my head filled my stomach with sickness.

I fell to my hands and knees as my breakfast found its way to the floor in front of me. I had become what my uncle had told me I would. A complete monster. I was just like him. I felt right in killing that girl. I still felt that I was right, but I knew it was wrong. I should have sat there, I should have done something else. Anything else.

"Ben, it's all right.", a voice pierced through my thoughts. Saba's voice.

"No! Leave me alone! I'm sickening. I'm disgusting." I spun and swung my fist toward her face.

I felt the impact and waited for retribution but it never came. She opened her arms and hugged me. I pushed away, but failed because of my sickened and weakened body.

"Stop! I'm . . . Stop."

"Ben, I've killed many, many people. I killed them with no reason besides my own greed. I crave the feel of blood and violence, but that isn't you."

I tried to fight some more. The slickness of the blood beneath us seemed to make it harder for me to fight against her grasp.

"You didn't make her die. This doesn't make you a monster, Ben. You saved my life and probably countless others. In my whole life, I've never saved a single life. I've never saved, only destroyed. I am a monster Ben."

"But I did this, what if it's stuck in me?! What if this horrid feeling never leaves? This dirt and grime that I can't see but fills me with self hate?! What if I break one day, what if I follow in his footsteps?!"

"I won't let that happen. I'll kill you before you destroy yourself."

The tears came suddenly, and I wrapped my arms around Saba. My face on her chest, I let the emotions flood forth. It wasn't the good Saba that held me close till my tears slowed. It was the Saba that lusted for blood. An understanding had formed between us.

I looked into her eyes, "Do you promise to kill me if I go that far?"

She nodded, "I promise."

Flashback Entry 165: Pact With The Devil -Andrew-

"Have you had enough?" This voice was not the hooded man's and yet it was still familiar. I looked up into a face I hadn't seen for a long time. Patrick's.

"What? Why are you here?", I thought I was hallucinating again. The constant torture left my mind shattered, showing pieces of my past that I'd lost a long time ago.

"I'm here to give you a choice." He stood and walked to where the hooded man was standing, "I want you to work for me. If you do, then I can get rid of your pain. I can make you forget all that you've done."

My mind flashed with an image of my daughter, looking up at me with wide eyes, full of curiosity. I shook my head to rid myself of the image. Pain filled my heart, because I knew what I'd done.

"Stop. Please, stop.", I begged Patrick.

"No. You need to know what you did. It's an irreversible sin."

Another flash, of Vincent's family, sleeping peacefully; unaware that I was nearby. Tears came, flooding past the mental barrier I'd put within myself.

"No, it wasn't me. I wouldn't . . ."

"You did. You took your hands," as he spoke the images flooded into my head, "put them around your daughter's neck while she asked you what was wrong. You remember, don't you?!"

"NO! Stop!"

"Her voice broke as you squeezed. You kept squeezing till you'd heard a snap. You killed your daughter, Andrew. Then you killed your friends," Patrick smiled as he leaned down to me, "And you loved it. Even now you can feel the craving for more in you."

He knelt down in front of me, "I can end all this, the torture, the pain; everything. All you have to do is . . . work for me. If you do, then all this will be gone. You can't live like this, Andrew. Let me help you."

I went limp as I remembered all that I'd done. I remembered the feeling of bones breaking, of blood running down my arms. I remembered the look of fear and hatred in their eyes, the confusion. I remembered loving it. I hated myself for that feeling. It haunted my nights, laughing as the whip broke my skin endlessly.

"Okay, I'll work for you."

The pain faded away as my cuts and bruises healed. I could still remember what I'd done but I no longer felt sad about it. It'd given me a high I'd never felt before. I glanced at Patrick as he smiled and released me from my binds. I pulled myself to my feet and felt that irresistible craving again.

The craving for blood.

163: Emotional Instability -Crystal-

The creature's tongue slowly pushed me down, deeper in to the darkness as my lungs screamed for air. The muscled throat kept me from struggling as my body methodically slid down its gullet.

I was a horrible person for treating Nick like that, and now all he would know was how much I'd hated him. No chance to apologize; no chance to be friends.

Maybe I deserved this. I was supposed to be dead so many times but I kept being brought back, but for what? I was worthless and powerless. I led with my emotions and what I thought was right, with out ever caring about the people I might be hurting in my pursuit of justice.

First it was Peter, destroyed by my inability to just let him have what he wanted. He was one of the many zombie children that had fallen to my hand. Then, Saba had been dragged in to my madness and we'd both nearly been killed. It didn't end there though; because of my stupid actions, everyone was stuck inside this building where they could be captured, injured, or worse.

Perhaps, this was all I was here for. Only here to make everyone else around me fall apart. My own Dad. I'd never reunited with my Dad. I felt the tears come and I opened my mouth to scream, only to be soundless because of the lack of air. This whole time I'd kept away and tried to go on, scared of being shunned. I'd never thought about how my Father could be taking the loss of both his wife and his daughter.

"You bastard!" Nick's voice was so close that it took me by surprise.

Just give up Nick. Just leave me here to rot away. Go help the others.

"Give," I felt the creature shake, "her," another shake and an intense heat, "BACK!!"

Heat, like nothing I'd ever felt before surrounded me, and I could feel air rush past me as the beast screamed in pain.

Why? Why keep fighting for me? I'm not worth all this. Everyone else is more important. Why would you want a monster like me?

"Crystal!" I felt a hand grasp my ankle and my body slide backwards back toward its mouth, "Don't you die! We aren't done arguing yet!"

The world exploded in to light as I was met by a surreal vision. Nick had one foot between the teeth of the creatures bottom jaw and his hand pushing the mouth open. Behind him I could see several people looking on in surprise, including Will.

Nick smiled at me as he lifted me out of the mouth and pulled me close, "Crystal, are you okay?"

Wiping tears and saliva away from my eyes, I turned to look at the creature that had grabbed me. Lying on the floor was a massive beast resembling a cross between a lamp shade and a T-rex. Its skin was sizzling and burned so bad that it hung in places.

I turned to Nick, "I'm sorry."

I felt his arms wrap around me and I started to cry.

162: Instant Inverse -Crystal-

Even though it was still the middle of the day, the skies above the museum were so overcast that the street below was covered in dark. As the cab approached I could see the clouds flowing outward from the sky above the ancient building.

The short female driver turned and looked at us as she pulled up, "Are you sure you want to stop here?"

"This is the place, Kelly. Thanks."

"I've heard some weird stuff over the waves, Will.", Kelly motioned toward the radio, "Don't get over your head."

"Already am." We all slid out of the cab.

"Well, I'll be out here as long I can. I owe you for that thing." Kelly smiled a cute smile and then pulled her head back inside.

Nick walked up to the doors and gave them a yank, with out any success, "Something is very wrong here . . . I can feel it in the air."

"Of course you would." I muttered, hoping Will wouldn't hear.

Nick turned toward me in anger, "Is it that hard for you to see that I'm only trying to help?!?"

"You are a sneaky, deceitful bastard! How am I supposed to know that you didn't cause all this?!? You just appear out of no where and expect us all to welcome you in, but I know what you did!"

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Will shake his head as he went off to look for another way in.

"You think it's easy?!? I can't remember who I was before only a week ago! I don't know what I did, who I hurt, or sins I committed! Living with out really knowing who you are is something you'll never understand!"

I felt the rage build up and I swung my hand out; connecting with his cheek, "My life was completely stolen from me! Every single thing I've known is gone and the only thing I have now are my friends!", I walked up to the door and slammed my fist against it, "You were the cause of everything, my life ripped away in an instant just so you could show off your power!"

Nick was speechless.

"Every time you speak. Every time you look at me. Every time I see you.", I emphasized my sentences with a pound on the door, "I know that deep inside you're full of lies and darkness; I know that one day you'll turn on us and tear us all to shre-"

At that moment the door behind me shattered. I was thrown violently forward, only to feel something catch me at my midriff and yank me backward. I flew back in to the darkness, the only visible thing being the rectangle of light with Nick’s silhouette. I couldn't see his face but I knew it was one of triumph. The pest was gone, nothing stood in the way of his plans.

A light flared behind me revealing anger on Nick’s face as he jumped in after me. Anger surprised me, I had just humiliated him and he was coming in after me. I watched as fireballs flew from his hands, landing far behind me.

Was I wrong? Was my distrust unfounded? I smelled the hot stink of rotten meat grow as I got closer to what ever it was that held me captive. The further I got, the more determined Nick looked, and the more ashamed I felt for making him out to be a monster. I watched myself fly past the teeth inside the gaping maw of the beast and as they closed all I could think was . . .

I'm sorry.

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.

134: Sweet Love -Saba-

I felt my back hit the ground as the darkness faded away around me; replaced by warm sunlight. Images of what I'd just seen seemed frozen in place just behind my eyes, but a good shake of my head caused them to fade as well.

"Brother?", it was younger me again.

"Yes, Saba?" Panic filled my chest as I heard Patrick's voice.

I turned around to see them, despite my mind screaming at me to curl up and pretend they weren't there. The smaller me sat on the ground in front of Patrick looking curiously at the dirt. Patrick looked much younger and wore a small baseball cap.

"We all become dirt eventually."

I watched with a stunned look as Patrick's face became sad, "Yes, you do."

"I don't like that. One day, I'm going to stop that. I don't want all my friends to die. I don't want Mommy and Daddy to die."

I watched as Patrick's face fill with even more sorrow. I could have sworn I saw his eyes water up as he crouched down to look at my younger self.

"Saba, you can't always get what you want. Sometimes the things you want most are taken away from you. Sometimes you're meant for something completely different from what you want, and you find yourself on the wrong side for the right reasons."

I got the feeling that he wasn't talking about the younger me. He seemed to be talking about himself.

"I don't care. You can't tell me what to do. Mommy can't tell me what to do and neither can Daddy. No one is my master and if I want to fight on the right side, then I will."

A happy smile came to his face as he shook his head, "Saba, how is it that you came to be my sister?"

"Your only sister.", little me corrected

"My favorite sister."

This time, there was no evil laughter.

132: Pleasantly Abstract -Saba- (Written by Crystal Ferguson)

(I promised you people a guest writer and here she is. This post was written by a good friend, Crystal Ferguson. Enjoy and be sure to comment so that she knows how well it is. I personally liked it a lot.)

The Soulscape proved to be beyond weird. My eyes gazed upon numerous things surrounding me. For some reason the images appearing seemed familiar. It must deal with one of my souls, but which one?

Sounds of joyful laughter filled my ears as images of a child-sized version of me ran by. A little boy followed after her, as well as some other unrecognizable children. Remnants of toys were scattered about my feet as the children ran by. The sun that shone above beamed down, the heat becoming intense. A playground was the background of the entire scene, along with homes along the road. As this went on, confusion filled my mind; as well as a sense of sorrow. Such a world of happiness never existed in my mind- especially not like this.

I stood watching for a minute or so then took a few steps forward. A look of discontent was marked on my face. How were they all so cheerful? Why didn't I remember this? It seemed entirely unfair. I huffed out a sigh, practically envying the smaller me.

More images began to form and danced out their re-enactments of childhood days. They played games, some looking to involve puzzles even. This whole world itself was puzzling enough. Sadness seeped its way into my brain even more so. I crossed my arms and held myself, closing my eyes in the process. The next thing I knew, my body was spinning. I kept my eyes shut out of fear and uncertainty.

Coming to a stop I cautiously opened my eyes. Strings of color swirled about me, the child like laughter filling the air. The scene from before had morphed in to an abstract painting. A feeling of panic swelled up inside me, causing me to shake my head a bit.

"What's going on? This doesn't even make sense!"

Perhaps it was a mistake to make an outburst. A low chuckle replaced the child like laughter. It began to rise, a full maniacal laughter taking over. With a pounding heart and a swimming head, I looked around in hopes of finding a way to escape what ever it was that mocked me. Of course it wasn't that simple.

The rainbow colored strings began to twist and hiss, the strings blackening as they drew in closer. A scream managed to escape my lungs as the hissing threads wrapped about my body. Grunting and struggling, the abstract world now oozed with pure darkness.

The tingling and sinking feeling from my bottom half told me I was being sucked down. I should have just kept my thoughts to myself. The thought of darkness engulfing me was very unpleasant.

This trip to find my souls was proving to not only be weird, but down right disturbing as well. Before the darkness completely engulfed me I managed to let out one last scream of panic.

Realizing that no one was coming to my rescue, the truth sunk in. The remainder of my body slipped into the oozing blackness and the laughter made my ears ring.

I was on my own.

Flashback Entry 115: Father -Nick-

"Friend to many, Father to one. He will be missed."

The coffin slipped silently in to the ground and my Mother started crying next to me. I would have stood to comfort her, but my legs had been rendered useless by my run in with the Bernauws.

So many people had shown up. People I didn't know, people my father didn't even like, and even my closest friends. My Father’s influence had stretched through out anyone that knew him, and they respected him for his intelligence, strength of will, and stubborn beliefs.

Out of all my family and friends, he was the only person I ever told about my abilities; my magic. He stood behind my path and even when I'd lost my legs he was there to help me cope. He found the realm of magic to be amazing and something to be utilized to its fullest. He found me most of the books I needed to continue my learning; I'd found the list on his desk the day after he'd past.

The doctors said that it was his heart, but I knew different. There were traces of magic everywhere when I found him, magic I'd felt before. The Bernauws knew I was alive, and had killed my Father as a message, "Don't stop us or more people will die."

They don't know what they just did.