Flashback 221: New recruits -Jason-

"Can anyone tell me the three types of Baggers?" I looked over the room full of our newest recruits. I had been training them for a week and they were showing great progress. It didn't take long for the smartest one to raise her hand.

"Yes, Betty?" I pointed in her direction. Betty was a shape-shifter which meant she could possibly be more of an asset than anyone else in the tent.

"Class A, B, and C. Class C are relatively mindless and follow the direct orders of Class B and A. There are usually an upwards of 100,000 of them in every army but anything converted joins this class at first."

She was right of course, but what she didn't realize just yet was that it was the Class C's that were a big problem. The sheer number of them was akin to a zombie apocalypse. I could remember the countless friends that had gotten swept up in a charging mass of them, only to be converted. I could still remember the sound their head made as I stabbed my blade through it.

"Class B are slightly taller than Class A and they're much more intelligent. They can make snap changes in their plans to ensure the safety of the Class C's that they give orders to. If a Class B dies then one Class C takes their place. There will always be at most 5000 Class B's in every army."

These noobs would soon find that surviving a Class B attack was more simple than expected. They were almost human, which meant they made very human mistakes. The real danger was an army of B's and C's. The Class C overwhelm your defenses at strategic points while the Class B attacks from behind while you're defending from the Class C. One of the reasons that I've survived as long as I have was because I'd never been in that kind of battle.

"Class A are the most intelligent and have the most strength. There are only 1000 Class A in every army and they are the main generals. They decide what strategy to employ in battle and when one of them dies then a Class B takes their place. They are also the only known Bagger that can convert others and they're the tallest."

"Good," I wrote Class A on the blackboard, "That's exactly what we're going to be talking about today."

I put down the chalk, "I need a volunteer."

Hands shot up and I searched for the strongest among them. I choose a tall man named Fredrick. He got up and made his way next to me. He looked a little worried because word had gotten around about my teaching methods. I stood him a few feet away and turned to the class. Way in the back I saw Alex slip in and stand against the wall. I'd have to finish this lesson quick.

"Class C," I pointed to my fists, "Class B," I pointed to my head. I turned to Fred and swung.

It wasn't expected but Fred took it with stride and didn't move. I frowned, "Fred, if you don't fight back then you're going to die. I'm not going to stop hitting you until it's a fair fight."

I swung again. Fred slipped under my swing and caught me in the chin with his elbow. I stumbled back as he charged forward. I saw his swing coming for my ribs and sidestepped. My palm smacked his back, adding a little more to his momentum. He stumbled until he caught himself and turned. I was already swinging. My knuckles crunched into his nose with a sound like the crumpling of a paper bag. Fred seemed unfazed and got two punches in my gut. I fell back as Fred moved forward.

It was time. I unsnapped my holster then brought my gun forward until it was very visible and pointing in his direction. Fred stopped in his tracks. The color drained from his face when he realized that the gun was cocked and ready to be fired. He stepped back and put his hands up.

I pointed to the gun, "Class A. Any questions?"

There were none.

"Class A's are very dangerous and if you aren't prepared for them then the only thing you can do is run. They change the tide of battle just by showing up. Had we been really fighting I would have shot Fred dead without hesitation."

Fred laughed, "C'mon, I could have taken you."

A loud bang filled the tent and everyone jumped. Alex was standing at the back, his gun aimed at Fred, "Now listen, when a Class A shows up it will probably be a surprise, kinda like me. You might have seen Jason's gun, but in real battle you wouldn't know a Class A was involved until soldiers started dying. Class dismissed."

I holstered my gun and slapped Alex on the back, "So what's the word?"

Alex was one of the only humans I could call a friend. He'd taught me not to underestimate the human race because they were tougher than expected. He'd saved my life countless times and I'd do the same for him. The baggers had their Class A but we had Alex. In our time serving together I'd seen him take on Class A's on three separate occasions. Not only did he survive all three times, but he actually killed one in hand to hand combat.

Not that he looked the part; he was slightly overweight and shambled around looking for a seat more times than standing. However, when he battled he was a monster. Even I'd be worried facing him.

Alex frowned and shook his head, "We've found the Academy, but it's completely infested. Only Class C's and they seem to be looking for something. I think your information was accurate, there is something in those ruins."

"Good. Bring the platoon back. We'll regroup and attack with force. We need to get whatever it is before they do."

"Can't. The scout escaped just as the army was attacked. No one survived Jason. They've all been killed or converted." Alex punched the blackboard.

"Shit," I sat down in a chair, "Alex, I haven't heard from the other generals for weeks. I fear that we might be the only ones left."

We sat in silence for a long time until I stood up and went to leave, "Prepare the troops, even the newbies. We leave tomorrow morning to take back the Academy. Hopefully what we have is enough, but even if we don't, we can't stop fighting."

"I'm fighting till I'm dead." Alex smiled.

"Me too." I slipped from the tent and out into the escaping sunlight.

I was terrified.

220: I am Animus -Sara-

"It will be okay. It was just a dream."

I stood near a bed, on which sat a small girl with tears in her eyes. The speaker stood nearby; a tall man with striking features and ageless eyes. Where was I? I had tried to possess that Arabic girl and then this.

"Patrick," She started to wail louder, "They wouldn't allow me on the boat! The rain was coming down in torrents and I was gonna drown, but no one wanted me on board. They told me I wasn't one of them. they said that I was just a tool to be used and discarded."

"She couldn't get on because I enjoyed watching her squirm." A voice to my side made me turn. Standing there was a nearly identical little girl, though this one seemed very different and dark.

"What's going on here?"

"That's not important. You should keep watching, because I know what you are now and there's something you should know." I found her smile disturbing as she turned toward the bed again.

"Saba, I'm sorry." Patrick sat down next to her and pulled her close, "I wish I could give you words of comfort."

"I'm not like them am I?"

Patrick shook his head, "You're not, and when the time comes you will be left behind."

"But why?" Her voice came out in a whine and the tears started again, "I don't want to be left behind. I want to be like everyone else."

The man named Patrick actually had tears in his eyes, "I'm going to be left behind as well. Neither of us will last, we're not meant too. Humans are forever and we're not."

"But . . . but I feel human." I was tiring of hearing the girl whine, but without knowing how to escape I could only sit and watch.

"I know. You need to understand that you're a copy, and one day you'll no longer exist," Patrick looked into her eyes and smiled, "but that doesn't make us any less important. The humans need our help, now more than ever."

"Why am I important?" She looked up at him, slowly calming down.

"You remember the story of Gilfred?"

She nodded.

"There are only four known beings like that, do you remember?"

She nodded again, "The Human Race, Gilfred, Animus, and Mardockt. Mardockt was made by Gilfred and is a bad, bad man, he's who we're trying to stop. Gilfred and Animus have been around forever. Animus is the power of the mind."

"Well, a long time ago, there was only three which lead Gilfred to decide to create Mardockt. The human race is unable to take direct action before a threat presents itself so the only being that could stop Gilfred was Animus."

Animus. Why did that name sound so familiar? Beside me I heard the dark one giggle.

"Here's where it gets good, keep listening." She stepped backwards into the darkness and I turned to watch the events that were taking place.

"Are these your memories?" I heard no response.

"Animus could tell that Gilfred shouldn't being doing it so she stood up against him by creating several armies; An army of fairy-folk, an army of Angels, and the army of the Cubi. To the fairies she gave great magical prowess, to the Angels she gave varying abilities centering around something human or natural, and to the Cubi she gave the gift of charm and politics. When she had finished, Gilfred was nearly done. She swept in with her armies, laying waste to whatever Gilfred put in her way."

My head began to hurt as I got a flash of standing above a sea of creatures, all armed and ready to do my biding. I shook it away and kept watching.

"I remember this part, can I tell it?" The girl smiled and rubbed her red eyes, "Gilfred knew the armies were strong, so to stop them he gave them each fatal weaknesses, that allowed them to be overcome easily. Fairies were suddenly able to be killed using their names, angel's abilities were sealed away, and the Cubi had to consume living energy to survive. Animus was defeated and she vanished, never to be heard from again. When Mardockt was created, Gilfred realized that she had been right so he contained Mardockt away and unsealed the Angel's powers so that they could be Mardockt's guardians until he found a way to destroy him."

I fell to my knees. Another flash and I was stepping up to an old man. He turned with a surprised yell and I felt myself tear into millions of pieces. I shook my head and tried to ignore the pain.

"Animus did get to Gilfred. She was going to stop him and since Animus couldn't be destroyed Gilfred did the only thing he knew would help. He destroyed her body."

No. No no no. I grabbed my head as pain seared across it.

"Gilfred needed a place to contain her so he put pieces of her into each human and over time those pieces broke down and were passed on through the generations. Now every human alive has a small bit of Animus within them, one could call it memory but that's a very basic way of describing it."

I was Animus. I knew that now.

"But this doesn't make me important."

"It makes you very important. You don't have a piece of Animus within you. To her, you're an empty shell, a body that she can use to collect the rest of herself when she awakens."

I knew something was off with that Arabic bitch. Now I knew where I was and I smiled. I would no longer need to jump from body to body. I could just kill them and go to the next human with a piece. I was unstoppable now. I started to laugh but stopped as I looked down at my hand. I could not move my fingers. I felt my breath quicken in terror.

"Sadly, you aren't human. You're a copy, made by me to contain her indefinitely. She'll find herself unable to exert her control and she'll fall into a deep slumber until she's needed. Without you she'll go on killing constantly, so in a way you are the human's defense against her."

I heard laughter next to me and looked at the dark eyes of the young girl, "I don't want to go to sleep. Help me."

"You won't. I'm a flawed experiment. Normally, you fall into a slumber," She laughed and I felt dread in my heart, "but with me you'll simply be unable to do anything . . . except feel . . . as you spend years and years under my blade."

She pulled a knife from behind her back and approached smiling.

This was worse than being incomplete.

Flashback 218: Gilfred -Indigo-

I had never met a Constant before. I barely even believed that they existed. Humans had everything wrong. They thought there was a single being responsible for the creation of the world. They lived by the belief that everything began somewhere, but that was a flawed view. The universe has always been and would always be. The universe was one of those Constants. Something that always was and would always be.

It was a hard concept for mortals to understand and even I had trouble believing it. There I was though, standing outside of the home of a legend. Gilfred was a Constant, someone whose stories were told to me as a child. I walked up onto the porch and lifted the knocker above which the initials G.O.D. were inscribed. I dropped the heavy weight and let it fall once.

Patrick had spent his life looking for this one man, if he was a man. Gender probably meant as little as age when referring to a  Constant. They weren't something that could be defined by those categories. I turned and glanced at the car. Inside lay a sleeping Patrick, a child for the time being. It wouldn't be until he got older that he would regain the memories he once had. His vessel's sister had been born yesterday so I had been left to care for him, a task I had wanted to avoid. I didn't want him to think of me as a parental figure because of my feelings toward him.

No answer from the door. I reached up to knock again. It had taken me years to find his residence, and I didn't expect him to be here. His house sat in the center of a massive field, a monument to his power it would have been, if it wasn't surrounded by small, wooden crosses. Thousands, if not millions of them surrounded the house, each one with a name and date. The neighbors said that when he first moved here there weren't any crosses, but over the years more and more began to appear.

I pulled my hand away from the door and glanced at the car again. Why was I hesitant? Patrick believed completely that this man was safe, but something in me was screaming to just walk away; just leave this thing alone because it wasn't worth the trouble.

If I did, then Patrick would never forgive me. The other people of our race had forsaken him, claiming that his words were lies. So he left them, choosing with conviction to side with the one race that seemed to be the only that wasn't too blind to see when things were getting bad. Humans.

I couldn't understand his faith in them. He seemed set in the belief that this entire time, humans had been the superior race. Our kind had enslaved them, done horrible things to them, made them believe things that gave us more power, but Patrick believed in their potential. I had asked him why he believed this so much and he asked me to think back to a time when humans weren't around. Even before the realm of humans, there were humans in the Other Lands; in the oldest history books, the ones buried in our forgotten cities, they were still spoken of from first page to last.

This fact scared me to my core. As far back as I looked, humans were always there. My fear came to the notice of Patrick, who took me back in the basement of his Other Lands home. There he showed me a large block of cave wall. On it were symbols that I recognized as the first roots of our language system, and right there in the most rudimentary of writings was the word Human. Patrick proceeded to explain that he thought humans were a Constant, not individual humans, but the human race as a whole. He believed they had an untapped potential, one that only manifested when their race was in danger of extinction; a bestowing of abilities to seemingly random humans, who would become the shield and sword needed to weather any storm. He showed me thousands of documents, all of them a record of times when the human race triumphed against odds that were completely unreal.

I lifted the knocker and dropped it again.

"I have something to show you Indigo." A voice behind me spoke and I instinctively branched out my power, but it was deflected. It had never been deflected before.

I turned to see an old man standing at the bottom of the porch stairs. He was smiling and I felt comforted by his presence.

"You must be Gilfred." I made my way down the stairs and followed him through the rows and rows of wooden crosses.

"When you've lived as long as I have," He brushed a hand across one of the wooden crosses, "you hardly ever make any mistakes. I'm sure you can understand that, given your races longevity, but I'm not sure you understand what it means to a person like me. A mistake of mine can have consequences that last for a very, very long time, and it will kill so many people."

"I'm not sure I understand."

He was quiet for several minutes while we walked through the unending field of crosses. Each one that he passed, he touched and he never smiled. Each cross he passed seemed like a weight on his mind and visible on his face as a burden. I could tell that to him each one was heavier than I could imagine.

"Each and every one, I put here. So that I never forget who they were and what they contributed to the universe, so I never forget what was lost. However, I believe there is only one that would have any relevance to Patrick, and in extension; you."

He stopped in front of a cross and pointed to it. Inscribed in the wood was a name. Mardockt. I stepped backward in shock and looked at the old man.

"Wh-What is this?" I was incredibly confused, Patrick believed Mardockt to be alive and trapped just waiting to escape. However, right in front of my face was proof, delivered by a being without age, that Mardockt was indeed lost.

"Humans were the most powerful of the Constants. They were because the entire universe and everything within it conformed to them. When humans were in danger, seemingly unrelated and inconsequential events took place bestowing seemingly random humans with powers that neither me nor you could understand. Then these humans turn out to be exactly what the race needs."

"You aren't making any sense. I came here to ask for your help, we need to kill Mardockt. We need you to kill Mardockt."

My head was still trying to get over the fact that Mardockt was dead. Patrick based every action that he made on the belief that Mardockt had been changed evil and that Mardockt had more power than he could imagine. Had Patrick been wrong?

"Only a Constant can create a Constant and the same inverted. Only a Constant can kill a Constant. Anything else that tries will be killed. I knew this, but in my loneliness I ignored that fact. The being you call Mardockt was created long before your friend unleashed him. It took me many years to learn how to create a Constant, and even longer to contain him."

Suddenly the weight of the field I stood in fell on me. Each one of these crosses were a life destroyed by the being Patrick was scared of, and because of Gilfred's guilt he lived everyday in the presence of monuments he'd created for them.

"This field," I felt a heaviness in my heart, "How many of them are of my race?"

"Patrick's friend, Mardockt, was not born without a power. When he was destroyed he created an anomaly in the universe. He was part of the protection that humans would need to survive."

"You aren't answering me."

"Don't you understand? Smell the air, look at the sky, you can see it everywhere. The human race is preparing to defend itself. I can feel the tendrils of fate weaving throughout the universe. I can see the dominoes falling in sequence as the universe and everything within it bends in attempt to ensure their survival. The last time I saw the universe react like this was back in the Ice Age, but even that wasn't anything compared to this."

"Stop speaking in riddles!" I stomped my foot causing the ground to tremble.

"The human race is scared. It doesn't know whether it can survive this time and because of this, the universe is not pulling any stops. Do you know what that does to me? I created the Constant that they're worried about. I caused the death of thousands and I can do nothing to help. I can only tell you the right direction."

"So what's the right direction?"

"Patrick's already headed in it, but he needs to find the anomaly. He needs to find it as soon as he can, because it will lead him to the only defense humans have."

"He's not interested in just saving the humans, he wants to save the universe. He wants you to lead the army he will create."

Gilfred smiled, "Indigo, you really need to be more understanding. A Constant is a Constant because it must be there. Without the human race then the universe loses meaning, and without a reason to exist it will fade away. I might survive as well as my creation, but the universe will evaporate. Take a look around you, I am not fit to lead an army, but maybe the anomaly will be."

I was angry, "You aren't the person I thought you were. I heard legends about you for as long as I've lived, but you're nothing but a sad old man who doesn't want to get his hands dirty. Patrick is more than you'll ever be."

Gilfred looked surprised as though I had said something he hadn't expected, "I have done enough. You may leave now, my answer is no. I will not join Patrick."

"Then I give you a message directly from him, if you will not help us then you will be hunted. You'll be hunted forever, because Patrick will not stop until he's either contained you or killed you."

As I turned to head back to the car, Gilfred laughed, "Patrick is an amazing person, very dedicated and willing to do what it takes, so I wait for the day when he comes to collect."

As I slid in next to Patrick, I couldn't help but feel a chill. Gilfred's words stirred something that I had stuffed away for a long time. Deep within my soul I felt the one thing besides love that controlled my actions.

Deep within I felt the cold hand of terror as the car pulled away from the house, the crosses and that horrible old man.

215: Heart Vs. Fear -Andrew-

I found myself standing in the rain. Up ahead stood the one group of people that despised me more than anyone else. The Warlock stood off to the side, his head down with ears blushing red and Ben was wrapping Crystal in a blanket.

My job was simple. All I had to do was find Carl and his brother, then kill them. If this was the other me than I wouldn't have even hesitated, but I had escaped my prison. Indigo hadn't just devised this horrible situation just to get back at the brothers, but also to tell me where I stood. To her I was nothing but a human, an easily manipulated sponge that she would squeeze the water from until I was wrung dry.

"Daddy, I don't know what to tell you." My brain emulated my daughter's voice, "I don't want to go back in that place, but this is wrong."

I knew it was wrong but I had no choice. If I didn't go and do her bidding then I was lost; I would never have my mind back.

"Honey, what happens if you do it? What do you become if you do as she says?" My wife was always the stronger one, the one to ask the questions no one wanted to.

How different from the old me would I be if I did what she'd asked? Would I end up the same? A monster in the skin of a man. The only difference would be the hate I feel for myself, but after a while wouldn't even that fade away? The group up ahead had stood and were walking away. They were probably headed to the hotel they were staying at. As I watched them I noticed a kind of deep camaraderie that I had only felt when my life was simple, and my family was alive. If I did what she said, then I would be destroying another family, removing two important people and leaving the rest in ruins.

Up ahead a bus turned the corner splashing Ben, Crystal, Nick and Will.

When I was in the Other Lands I remembered watching them, studying their movements and learning their skills. I had gone to the museum knowing that I could beat them, only to find that everything I'd thought was wrong. This single group of people spit in the face of what was definite, almost as though they weren't held down by the rules that bound us all. None of them seemed very special, they weren't even the most powerful people he'd met, but something about them kept them going even against the power of Gods.

"Daddy, you're special too." Tears came to my eyes, and even though my mind was making up her words I was touched, "That mean lady can't control you if you don't let her. We can all choose to be different."

"Honey, we're with you no matter what you do. You've gotten us back, so we're here for you."

The bright headlights of the bus filled my vision and something in me fell together. Indigo and Patrick had caused me all this hardship, but this time I wasn't their puppet. Back then I was tortured and weak, unlike now when I'd faced death and lived. I was like those people I had studied. I was my own person, able to make my own choices and not be controlled by the greed and vengeance of Gods.

I stepped off the curb and turned to face the several tons of metal hurtling toward me. I held my hands up and screamed, "Indigo! Here's what I say to your request you manipulative, evil witch! Go to H-"

The bus collided with my body. I felt my skin rip open and my insides burst as pieces of me flew every direction. I heard a muffled scream as I hit the ground and slid in the mud. I was dying and the pain was incredible, but I'd felt worse. I had felt it for so long. Slowly the world blurred away and went black.

I was free. I was strong. I was special. I was dead.

202: Black Baggers -Alice-

The grass beneath my feet felt cool and comfortable as the world around me came to focus. I found myself standing in a grove of trees outside of a massive building that looked like something out of ancient lore.

Ben had tried to explain everything and had told me how important it was that I find Alex, but now that I was in the Other Lands, everything seemed vibrant and interesting. Every sight tugged on my curiosity and filled me with awe.

The Other Lands seemed like Earth before humans covered most of the globe; natural and filled with a beauty not seen in many years. The large building I was next to didn't stick out against the natural beauty, instead it was built specifically to emphasize the world around it. I stared at the massive structure, my eyes following the flowing terraces and the columns that lined the walkway to the entrance.

The more I stood there looking, the more I noticed the silence of the place. The more I noticed the silence, the more unsettling it became. There were no noises from within this giant building. The air of abandonment was very evident as I stepped up to the entrance and read the words above it aloud, "The Academy." My voice echoed off the walls of the building.

I pushed on the heavy oaken doors and was surprised that I didn't flow straight through them. For the first time since I'd gotten here, I noticed that most of my ghostly properties were gone. I was still slightly translucent, but I couldn't travel through solid objects like I could on Earth. Here, I could feel my mortality, while on Earth I lacked the feeling of being alive. I knew as if by instinct that I could die here and I shuddered to think of what happened then.

The doors opened easy, swinging wide and slamming loudly against the walls. Stepping into the hallway, the first thing I noticed was the mess. It looked as though a battle had taken place inside this building, complete with broken furniture and dark brown bloodstains splattered on the walls. The place became intensely more creepy on the inside, but I was still led by my curiosity.

The door opened into a hallway and that hallway opened into a large courtyard. The plants of the courtyard had become overgrown, making it difficult to see across to the other side. The paths had survived the overgrowth, leaving natural hallways with walls of dense plant life. The sight was as breathtaking as it was disturbing. No one had been through these halls in many years. No one had been here to take care of the garden or clean up the place.

I climbed over a fallen archway and made my way down the path behind it. After a few minutes, I found myself staring at a tall, naked man standing in the middle of the walkway. The man was very pale and thin; skin hanging on his bones like clothes on a clothesline. His face was completely covered with what looked like a black, plastic bag tied tight around his neck. Even as I approached, the man didn't move. He just stood there, his arms slack at his sides and his head tilted as though looking at the floor.

I was terrified by the sight of him. He stood there still and silent, his chest not even moving to draw a breath. I pushed myself against the walls of green as I squeezed past, never taking my eyes off his thin frame. Who ever and what ever it was had left me utterly shaken, forcing me to increase the distance between me and it. I quickly turned my back to it and continued down the pathway.

I had made it about ten feet when a noise behind me made me freeze. I felt the blood drain from my face and my heart leap into my throat. I stood quietly listening for any sounds of movement. Hearing nothing I slowly turned around, and found myself staring at the black-bagged man. He stood three feet behind me unmoving again. He was facing in my direction, his head tilted like a curious child, though it was anything but endearing. The shock of him being so close nearly made me scream, but I grabbed my mouth. I fought to keep it in, fearful that if I did scream, what ever this thing was would hear me. The silence of the courtyard filled my ears as I sat there staring at the naked man.

Then it moved.

Slowly it stepped forward, so slowly that at first glance you would have never noticed. Even though the black bag kept me from seeing its face, I could tell it was staring at me. I began to crawl backwards, desperate to get away from the horror of its presence.

The further I moved away, the faster the black-bagged man moved. I spun to my feet and began to run, no longer trying to be silent. Fear filled me as I heard its heavy footfalls behind me. It was running too. I didn't glance behind me knowing that it was only a few feet away.

To the right near the ground I spotted an opening in the plants and dived through it. I pressed myself against the opposite wall as the man's arms stretched through the opening toward me. It tried to pull itself through the small opening, but soon quit trying when it realized it was too big. I breathed a sigh of relief. The relief didn't last long.

An ear-splitting scream, like something from the depths of Hell exploded from the pathway the creature was on. The sheer volume of the sound caused the sudden onset of a painful headache. When the sound had faded away another sound took its place. From all directions, the sounds of distant muffled screams slowly filled the silence.

This place was infested with these black-bagged people, and now they were all looking for me.

201: Visible Lies -Crystal-

"Speak fast." I held the grenade ready to throw as he stood up.

"Let me collect myself." Patrick had an unsettling calm as he spoke. The anger from before was gone and replaced with confidence, as though he'd gotten control of the situation again. He didn't need any "collecting", he was stalling for time. He was going to lie.

"Vincent was a soul trapped inside that of a bear. Once the bear is destroyed his soul is no longer trapped there and can go find another, more suitable body."

The venom dripped off the lies as he spoke. He didn't even try to hide it. The anger that had been put aside so that I could possibly find a way to bring Vincent back filled me again.

"I can tell you a way to follow his soul from his remains to where he is now, but you need to put down that grenade first." I had to admit he was a good negotiator. If I didn't know that he was a filthy liar I might have done what he wanted.

"Fine." I tossed the grenade into the room he was standing.

Patrick's face went from calm confidence to fearful urgency in seconds. I had never felt a more gratifying moment in my short life. Patrick ran toward the door, but my heel between his eyes stopped him with a crunch of cracking bones. He fell to the ground and I ran. I'd gotten only a short distance away when the explosion shook the entire building. I ducked around a corner and covered my head as pieces of burning wall and shrapnel metal flew past. As the heat faded, the scent of burned flesh hit my nose.

I stood and made my way back down the hall to where I could see Patrick's burned, bleeding and unmoving body. I knelt and felt for his pulse.

There was none.

Something inside me cracked. I had killed someone. I had taken the life of another in a fit of anger and it scared me. This wasn't who I was. I didn't want this new part of me, I wanted it to go away. It had turned me into a murderer; a monster. I felt tears stream down my face as I stood and walked from the building.

I didn't want this.

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.

192: My Power, My Downfall -Bob-

I lifted the girl up by her neck. I'd never seen a more powerful Warlock. Her power was nearly undetectable and very lethal. In fact, it wasn't even the type of power I thought that I'd find. As a human she was quite the specimen. I squeezed her neck, watching her eyes widen as she struggled for breath.

"What is wrong with you humans? Here I am squeezing the life out of you and I sense no fear. I'm going to kill you, and you look at me as though I'm pathetic and not worth your time." I glanced back at the other two as they pulled themselves to their feet.

"Is there something wrong with you people? Do you lack the capacity to fear or something?", I tightened my grip, "No matter how hard I squeeze she still doesn't want to be afraid. Learn your place humans."

The unusually strong human laughed, "You really think you've got us by holding her hostage? Do you know what she's done to us? She nearly killed some of our closest friends, and she's just as twisted as you. Go ahead, crush her throat."

I could tell he was bluffing, at least partially. So why say it? He was gaining nothing, except time. Time for her to run out of breath. Time for her to wish it would end. The thought came to me at the last second and I had no time to get out of the way as the pillar flew at me. Time to get her attack prepared.

The impact caused my grip to release and threw me across the room. I felt ribs break as I smashed into the wall. She had used her abilities to lift a pillar and wield it as a weapon, and I'd never seen that before. What were these people?

"That's it. Enough games! Time to di-" The strong one's fist hit me in the face before I could finish. A knee to my chest did more than just confirm the broken ribs, it fractured them. I felt his fingers in my hair as he taught me how his knee felt on my face. I tasted the blood on my lips. Me. I was bleeding, by a mere human, which is something I would never had expected. Then again, nothing has happened as expected. All I had to do was kill the anomaly and instead I meet an entire army of them. I could feel his fists hitting me but I was lost in thought.

Humans are not capable of this kind of power. We ruled over them for thousands of years with out a single incident. Had they been building this power over that entire time? All three of these filthy humans demonstrated abilities beyond that of the norm. There was no way I could allow this to continue.

His next fist never connected; intercepted by my hand and followed by a swift series of jabs to his chest. I watched his stamina fall as I turned his chest and stomach into a bruised mess. He went limp shortly, still conscious but unable to move. I lifted him up so that we were face to face.

"See what you get?", I spat my blood in his face, "All it took was a few hits and now you can be put aside for later."

I should have seen it. These humans were smart. Their fighting prowess was like a seasoned warrior. They'd seen battle before and definitely fought things above their ability to defeat. I should have known that they'd work together to make this difficult, but I never expected them to work so well.

"So, who next?" I tossed him aside and looked up to see the Warlock releasing a fireball lined with razor sharp blades that had been collected by the girl. I felt my skin burn as it collided with me. I was helplessly thrown back into the wall. The pain was excruciating, flowing through my entire body. I could hear my screams as though they were from a distance.

This was too much. These people were relentless, they'd never stop. I'd made a mistake. I was going to die, right here, right now, to the hands of humans; the people I'd hunted for sport. These three had taken every hit, and retaliated like demons. There was no way I could win. Too much, just too much.

Then I felt it. Fear, so much fear. I felt my confidence return as the fear grew. I had been wrong, I would win. The humans revealed their fear too early, so early. I reached out with my power and grasped on to that fear.

It was the sweetest kind, a surprising fear. Something unexpected but so strong and so deep, like a nightmare come true. I had to incapacitate one of these foolish humans in order to have a chance. I called upon everything I had and forced them into their horror, where they'd live until I killed them. I felt them give in to my power and then everything faded away.

I found myself standing in a room.

"What? What's going on?"

"You are completely foolish. You've made a horrible mistake." That was Mardockt's voice. I felt a deep dread as he stepped out of the shadows.

"I was winning! I was going to win!"

"NO! You FOOL! You never had a chance! Do you know why you're here? I didn't bring you here, YOU DID!" He was angry, and that made me more scared than I'd ever been. The things he could do to me . . . the thing he would do to me.

"How did I do that? I have no access to this place."

"You think you're really with me?", he laughed, "No. All of this is in your mind, and I must say . . . I'm very flattered."

What he was saying finally hit me. I had made a mistake.

"Oh you see it now, I can see the fear in your face. Yes, Bob. You wasted all your energy putting yourself into your own deepest, darkest fear."

"Eventually I'll get my strength back!", I was all ready shivering as he walked over to me, "I'll escape once I'm in control again."

"Bob.", he knelt and looked me straight in the face with a smile that was full of some much pleasure, "You're going to use up all your strength surviving me."

"No.", I felt the tears come, "NO! I'M SORRY! NO! LET ME OUT! HELP! HELP!"

He stood and pulled a pair of razor-sharp tongs out of his pocket, "Bob?"

My voice was a whisper, the fear was so strong and just getting stronger with time. I kept imagining what Mardockt would do to me with out being able to stop thinking it, "Please. Please don't. I don't want this, I never wanted this. You need to stop. Why would you do this to me? Please. No no no no no no no no."

"BOB!"

"What?", I was whimpering uncontrollably as I tried to think of a way out, but all I could think about is how many ways he could make me scream.

He smiled a smile so evil that it brought me to screams before he even touched me.

"This is going to be fun." And he began.

187: Fear Of Ham -Christina-

"Well, I did not expect you to drop in."

"Bob?"

My dragon and I had crashed through several walls, and now stood in a large room with a pool of red liquid in the middle. The dragon had not survived the crash, but I got through with only a few bruises. Standing in the middle of the pool was Bob, waist deep in the fluid.

"Bob, what are you doing here?" I staggered to my feet, feeling exhaustion take hold.

"Did everyone seriously think that the Abhorians could unite together and start a war? They're barbarians; they don't have the intelligence to do anything like that."

I fell to my knees. The crash had hurt me more than I'd realized, "We have to get out of here, Bob. I need medical attention."

"No, that wouldn't be possible."

"What? I could die, Bob. Please, help me get out of here."

"The answer is no. Just die so I don't have to deal with your whining." Bob cupped his hands in the fluid and poured it over his head.

"Why? Why won't you help me? We're allies."

"Allies?", Bob scoffed, "You must have hit harder than it looked. I'm not your ally, I'm your enemy."

"That's impossible! Why?" I tried to stand again, only to fail.

"At the academy, I was weak. No one feared me, so my power never left the confines of my mind and when it did, the opponent always got the upper hand somehow. I tried everything and failed. I was given the lowest scores and put into the lower tier because I never showed my true potential."

"You left because you were weak?" I finally was able to get to my feet, but had to lean against the wall.

"I left because it wasn't fair. I pleaded with the teachers to give me a chance to use my powers to the fullest, but they never gave in. They told me that if my power did not activate than the fault was mine. I did not accept that, and I vowed to take my revenge."

"You're a filthy traitor, and a weakling." I was breathing heavily but slowly the pain in my head began to subside.

Bob laughed, "The system is flawed. The people with out abilities are executed when they reach nineteen, and the weakest of us are sent to the mines. There is no equality in the system, it's the strong survive and the weak are forgotten. I would gladly become a traitor to that."

"So, why the villages? Why the human settlements?" I had to keep him distracted till my head was clear enough for me to find a way out, or I was recovered enough to kill the bastard.

"I don't discriminate. Instead of allowing only the strong to survive, I'm just going to kill everything. First the Gods, then the human settlements, and finally the Sprites; none of them will survive."

"You're sick." My knees buckled and I almost fell to the floor again, "How are you controlling the Abhorians?"

"I'm the God of Fear, Christina. When I'm in the presence of these Abhorians, things change. My ability becomes supercharged. These creatures allow me to do things I'd never thought possible. I can show you, tell me . . . what do you fear most?"

Immediately, Mardockt surfaced in my thoughts. I felt goosebumps on my arms just thinking about what he'd become. Just Mardockt's eyes after the resurrection filled me with a dread I'd never knew could exist.

"That's very unusual. Why would you fear him? Why Mardockt? Isn't he dead?" His eyes widened, "Mardockt isn't dead, is he? Something else happened that forced him to be exiled. I wonder if he left for the same reason I did?"

"Bob, don't." My voice had no strength.

"Well, no matter, I'll take care of that later. Right now, I'm going to help you with your fear. Once I do that then maybe I can convince you to join me. With your strength, maybe I wouldn't have to worry about losing this war."

"I'll never join you, Bob. I'd sooner kill myself than become a murderer."

"You're already becoming a murderer! Once you earn some say on council matters, then you'll do the same things they do. They train us for this our entire lives, Christina. They make us in to them and then we make the next generation in to us." Bob's face had gone red with anger.

"This isn't the right way, Bob. This is wrong, can't you feel that?" My headache was nearly gone but my knees still shook beneath my weight.

Bob waved his hand toward me, "Maybe you'll think differently when you're not controlled by your fear."

A new headache erupted and I fell to the ground. The stone against my cheek only served to make the headache worse.

"The pain won't last long, Christina. You'll be better than fine. You'll be powerful, unstoppable. Nothing will - Oof!"

I looked through my pain-filled eyes to see Patrick standing where Bob had been. Bob was pulling himself to his feet and sneering at Patrick, "You shouldn't interrupt while I'm inside your friend's head, anything could go wrong if I make a mistake. You wouldn't want her to be a vegetable, would you?"

The pain in my head grew to a new intensity, and I could swear my head was splitting open. I opened my mouth to breathe but only screams escaped.

"All this time you've wanted to fight me Bob, and now that you have the chance you're hiding behind a hostage." Patrick tried to remain calm. If he didn't than he would use too much force. Patrick's power was related to his emotions, though I wasn't sure exactly how. If he got too angry this would get very messy and he'd have to explain to the council why he didn't bring the target back alive.

Bob took the bait and ran toward Patrick. He didn't release his hold, and I could feel him shifting things around in my head. The increasing pain of the headache made sweat drip from my forehead to the floor. It paralyzed me completely while I watched.

It was over in seconds, as I knew it would be. The pain subsided quickly as Bob fell to the ground unconscious. For some reason I already knew what had happened; Bob never finished removing my fear and because of this, I would never see ham the same way again.

Exhaustion, pain, and trauma from the ordeal took its toll and I fell to sleep.

I woke up back in the museum looking into the eyes of an Abhorian as he raised his fist to smash my face in.

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.

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.

172: Out Of My Head -Alice-

Life is something that you have until you don't, and once gone you lose everything; gain nothing. At least this is what I thought when I'd woken up this morning and slipped on my clothes. They were hidden beneath the beer cans filled with various liquids unknown that littered the living room floor.

I stepped over my Dad's passed out body and made my way over to the other couch, where my Mother lay naked and bruised. I could see her breathe as I covered her with the living room rug that had gotten swept up in last night's binge drinking. A cold draft came from the open front door. Stepping carefully over the many empty syringes and pill bottles, I made my way toward it.

Today, I was lucky. I was going to a museum for a field trip, which meant I wouldn't have to deal with my Dad's violent hangovers and my Mother's scalding tongue of hate. I was never good enough to them and honestly, I didn't think I was either. I guess that's what happens when you live your life always being told how pathetic you are.

I grabbed my yellow stained backpack and as I shut the door behind me I sniffed it, only to find that my Dad had probably lost control of his bladder in its general vicinity. Ignoring the smell I headed off to the bus.

The entire bus ride to the museum I endured the children that made passing comments about my hair and the smell of my backpack. Being fourteen is hard, being fourteen with my family . . . is impossible. Some days, I just wished I would die. That bus ride was the last one I'd ever take, and I wish I could take it again.

I wish I'd never woken up in that chair, unable to move and staring at a strange, terrified looking man. I heard another man say what was going on, and I saw the man in front of me make the single choice that I'd never realized that I didn't want.

My Mother was horrible. My life was a mess. I had no friends, but I didn't want to die.

The pain as the guy stood up was beyond explanation. Small metal shards pushing their way through the side of my face, making mush of what I once called my brain. My life was over in an instant because one guy decided that I wasn't worth living, just like everyone else I knew. I welcomed the darkness that should have followed. I closed my ethereal eyes and waited for the nothing.

I still could think but that would be gone soon. Even the voices of the people in the room would fade. All cares would be gone, and there would be nothing of me left. Soon.

Fifteen minutes passed and the room had become empty.

So why was I still here?

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."

168: Abhorian -Carl-

I'd never in my life seen anything like what had come through the door. In my time I'd faced against giant crabs, the ghost of a doll, and a swarm of zombie children, but I'd never seen something like this.

As the smoke from the remains of the door faded, I found myself looking at a very tall, shadowy creature. It stood on two partially bent legs and had massive arms, with fingers as long as I am tall. The more I stared at it the more frightful I became of it.

"An Abhorian?", Melissa hissed as she pointed at Christina, "Can't your kind ever kill something dead?"

"This is different.", I could hear the surprise in Christina's voice as she stuttered, "I thought we had."

I didn't take my eyes off the creature that stood in the doorway studying us silently.

"I hate to interrupt your obvious surprise, but I don't know what this thing is."

"An Abhorian is a lower beast that feeds on fear. It's commo-"

"Oh, shut up!", Melissa interrupted Christina, "It's the monster in the closet, under the bed, in the dark, et cetera. The more you look at it, the more it fills you with fear. They don't usually become strong enough to be physical. I guess the door is doing something to it."

Christina gave Melissa a dirty look and then slid Andrew's sword over to me, "Just, don't look at it and you'll be fine."

The beast let out a roar and charged.

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.

Flashback Entry 164: Things Before -Andrew-

The whip tore into the skin of my back as the hooded man laughed at my silent screams. When I finally got my voice back I tugged at the binds and yelled at him.

"Please! Just let me go! I didn't mean it. It wasn't my fault! Oh God, I'm so sorry Vincent. So sorry."

The hooded man knelt down in front of me and I could tell he was sneering at me as he spoke, "He can't hear you. No one can. You're stuck with me for eternity, and no amount of screams is going to change that. It's not like he cares about you anyway, you're a monster. A blackened pit of sick that deserved what you got."

My head fell and I felt tears flow down my face. The soothing wet was soon replaced by searing pain as they rolled over the hundreds of cuts and bruises all over my face, "Please."

The snap of the whip reminded me of what my words meant. Nothing. As the torture continued, I fell back into that part of my mind that keeps me safe. The part of what things were before.

My thoughts faded to a darkened bedroom. I was watching her sleeping peacefully, happy that my life had gotten this far. Everything had fallen into place, and I'd just gotten a great job working with a good friend. I leaned down to brush a lock of hair from her forehead, and laid a kiss on her beautiful, pale skin. She was going on 7 and was the most important thing in my life since her mother died.

I walked to the door and took one last look before closing the door. I made my way into the living room where Vincent sat ready to kick my ass in Soul Calibur.

"She's sleeping?" He handed me the controller.

"Yeah, she took it hard when her mother died, but I think she's finally moving forward. Stephanie would have been proud."

Vincent smiled a sad smile and nodded toward the video game screen.

"Wake up, you stupid piece of worthless air!" Hooded man's voice came flooding through my thoughts, tearing me away from a time when I was completely happy. I looked up at him feeling the rage in me grow.

"You need to stay awake while we tear off your skin."

I knew I belonged here. My sins had been too great.

Hell hath fury.

Entry 160: Ben Snaps, Blood Follows -Saba-

The sound of the shotgun pulled me from that small part in my mind that I'd receded to while the knife did its work. I looked up to see blood and brain matter splattered across the tall marble columns. The left half of Ben's body was red with the young girl’s essence. Andrew looked surprised as well, he'd stopped cutting and stood there staring at the reflection of Ben in the column I was tied to.

I could see Ben's mind crack through his eyes as they went from distressed to shocked. We all froze there for a few seconds, the only sound being the pieces of skull dropping on the floor as the blood ran down the walls. I knew what Ben was thinking, I'd felt the same when I'd made my first kill.

I watched as the horror faded, replaced by sadness. I saw him mourn for the child trying to find a way to rid himself of the sickness that had invaded him. I knew the next step, the part where he accepts who he is and realizes that his destiny had been this all along. The part where he joins Andrew in the killing. The part where he kills me.

What I saw was something different. I watched as his face went from sadness to rage. I saw the righteous anger surge through him as he realized the lack of control he'd had for the outcome. Through his eyes, like a movie, I watched him blame the person who caused the death of that young girl. Seconds had passed, but something had changed in Ben.

Glancing up at Andrew, I knew that he saw it too. Where his face had been one of ecstasy, it was now very serious. His hand gripped the knife tighter as he turned around just a little to late. The chair caught him in the chest, slamming his back in to me. Pain shot up my body and I cried out.

"How could you . . . ", Ben resolutely stepped up to where Andrew lay coughing as he tried to draw in air, "You filthy, ugly little cockroach."

Andrew grabbed for the knife he'd dropped, but Ben's foot knocked it away and then proceeded to teach Andrew’s face how to bleed with a swift kick to the bridge of the nose. Andrew slipped on the unfortunate child's blood as he tried to pull himself to his feet.

Ben grabbed the chair again and smashed it on Andrew’s back, "She was so young. She hadn't lived."

I wasn't sure what scared me more, the look in Ben's eyes or the fact that he wasn't yelling. His voice was calm as though talking to a child. There was pain and anger behind it, but it was masked with an emotionlessness that made his words sink deep in to my soul as he spoke.

Groans of pain escaped from Andrew as he tried to recover from Ben's retaliation. Ben grasped Andrew's neck and dragged him over to the motionless body of the girl and pointed to where her head had been.

"You like your work? Did you enjoy taking her life away? Did it make you feel better?"

Andrew finally spoke, "I feel no joy in her being dead. The thrill comes from the killing, but you should know that now. You are what your uncle claimed you would become. A monster, just like him, just like me, just like your frie-"

His voice was cut off as Ben shoved Andrew’s face in to the girl's stump of a neck. He pushed him against her neck until it looked like he had been engulfed. There was no way Andrew could breathe. I struggled at my captors. Ben was going to kill him.

Flashes of my past came to me, the anger I'd felt. The killing anger that engulfed me and made me what I am. The loneliness and pain that followed soon after, feelings that could only disappear with another kill. The constant need to rid myself of those feelings. It was a horrible life, and I couldn't sit here and watch as another person traveled down that dark path. I spread out my abilities and lifted the knife from the puddle of blood.

Ben's eyes were lifeless and cold as Andrew's fighting slowed down. The lack of oxygen would cause him to lose consciousness soon. I felt the ropes fall away and for once both sides of me wanted the same thing.

"Ben, stop!" I pushed Ben aside causing him to lose grip on Andrew. Andrew fell to the ground gasping for air. Ben sat on the floor unmoving, only his breath told me that he was alive.

"Thank you.", Andrew’s voice pulled my darkness out and hid my goodness away as I turned to him, "You saved me."

"You're a fool.", I snarled at him grasping the sides of his head, "I saved Ben."

Then I snapped Andrew's neck.

Entry 158: Becoming The Prediction -Ben-

"Do you know what bothers me most about you and your group of pals?" Andrew whispered behind my ear.

I could tell he was smiling with out seeing him.

"None of you realize how serious what you're investigating is. Out of nowhere you stroll in as though you know what you're doing."

The child across from me looked more terrified by the second. I was sure that she knew more about what the game was about than I did.

"That's not the only thing that bothers me about your stupid group. Your friendships just piss me off. Why in the world would you keep around someone as broken as this specimen?"

A light came on to the left, revealing Saba strapped to a column. She looked unconscious as Andrew walked toward her.

"You have a choice Ben. The chair you are sitting is wired to that shotgun. If you get off then that child will no longer see her 16th birthday. However," A shine made me realize that he was holding a knife, "If you don't get up, then I will continue to cut your friend here until she bleeds out."

I felt my skin go pale as he pressed the knife to Saba's skin. This was like a nightmare. Save my friend and become the thing my uncle swore I would, or watch my friend die and never be able to forgive myself? Andrew lifted his knife from Saba's skin and turned toward me.

"This entire setup was thought up by someone we both had the pleasure to know; though your interaction was cut short by a stray axe. Does the name Mr. Giggles mean anything to you?" Andrew laughed as he turned back to Saba.

Watching Saba's blood run down her leg made the tears come. My mind was telling me to stand up but my heart was whispering the names the child across from me could have.

At this point Saba woke up, screaming in pain as the knife ran across her. Andrew made no sound besides his heavy breathing, as though he found his work arousing.

"Ben! Ben, help! Stop him!" I didn't stand up; my thoughts were confusing me.

Slowly I came to the realization that someone was going to die today. Someone would be killed by me. I couldn't stop that. If I saved the kid then Andrew would still have the upper hand, and if I saved Saba then me and her could both stop this madman before anymore people died.

I locked my heart away, and stood up.