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.

Flashback 217: God-Rank -Indigo-

I was twenty-three when I earned my God-Rank. I was the second youngest person to earn their God rank; the first being Patrick at age 15.

I stood in front of my Father as he looked at me. He smiled and motioned for me to step forward. I had been waiting for this day even though I already knew what I would be God-ranking into. My power involved emotions; I could see and manipulate a person's emotions, but with my touch I could do all that, and create or destroy emotions as well. I was jumping right up to the top and becoming the Goddess of Emotions.

God-ranking was a rite of passage for most of us. We aspired toward it so we could find out where we ranked compared to our other classmates. Getting a rank could either give or take some power from the receiver, and very rarely did it ever leave them the same. It all really depended on what my Father decided was best, but most had a change to their abilities happen when they were ranked.

"Indigo, my dearest daughter, you have done well in proving yourself and you demonstrate incredible control over you ability, and that makes me proud."

I stood tall and proud like a daughter should. This was my moment.

"What doesn't make me proud is the relationship you have with Patrick. I've even heard rumors that you've joined him in his crusade to find an imaginary person. You spread rumors of a war that is going to be worse than the one we're in right now and you did all of this against my wishes."

My pride deflated like a popped balloon. How could I explain my feelings for Patrick? My feelings that had not been returned despite my best efforts. Everything my Father had said was happening started because I wanted to be noticed, but over time I realized that Patrick was speaking the truth and trying to save us from destruction.

"Dad, I didn't mean to disappoint you. Once I'm God-ranked then I'll be sure to make you proud."

"Or you could end up taking my rule right out from under me and giving it directly to Patrick." He slammed his hand on the throne's armrest, "You disobeyed a direct order from your ranking officer and your father. You have disgraced my name more than any has yet."

"But Father . . . " I felt the tears flow but didn't care, "I'm sorry."

"You have proved yourself to be capable of God-rank, that is true. So your rank shall be Goddess of Guilt, a title suitable for someone who has shamed their family so much."

I felt my powers slip away as I fell to my knees. I would no longer control all emotions, my control would center around guilt alone. Sadness at the loss of my ability built up in my chest and then slowly formed to anger. I pulled myself to my feet and smiled a dark smile at my Father.

The room became heavy with guilt. Some people burst into tears while others began tearing at their faces. I slowly intensified the feeling until everyone was trying to kill themselves over the guilt they felt. Except my Father. He sat there unaffected, like always. Our powers didn't work on our parents, something to do with protective powers through blood.

He stared at me angrily until the last person fell, "Are you done?"

I turned and stomped through the puddles of blood to the door, "I hate you."

I closed the door behind me and then fell to the floor in tears. How could he do that? How could my Father be so cruel? I thought he loved me, but I was nothing but a tool that had broken.

"So, I need a favor." It was Patrick and coming from across the hall.

I looked up at him, tears still streaming down my face, "Will it hurt my Father?"

"Yes. If I'm right, then it will do more than just hurt him."

I wiped the tears from my face, "You saw what happened in there?"

"No, but I did hear it. Your father is a very twisted man."

I ran up to hug him but he sidestepped, "Indigo, I can't ask anyone else to do this. I need your help."

I knew I would help him already. I wanted to make my Father suffer for destroying my powers like he did, "What do you need?"

"I need you to find someone willing to perform the needed spell so that I can go to the human realm. I think that's where Gilfred is hiding."

"I'll do it." I couldn't deny the request of someone I loved.

And I didn't care anymore.

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.

208: Delayed Heartache With A Dash Of Betrayal -Melissa-

A pain blossomed deep in my heart as I became self aware once again. I slowly felt my energy returning; building till it could reconstruct my body again. Heartache stung as memories I'd never had before came flooding back as though they'd always been there, hidden behind a thick veil of false assumptions and hidden connections.

Qaliphus couldn't be dead. The first connection I made as my mind formed itself again was that his name had never been evoked. A fairy could only be destroyed by having their name evoked at the time of their destruction. Something that had never happened that horrible moment several years ago when my heart was torn to pieces and I'd lost everything.

Now I had to endure the same painful horror as the few good years of my life were colored black with sinister deception. The love that I'd felt from him never was. The feelings of safety, those last few moments that we'd had before he'd put his plan into action.

As my eyes formed, so did the tears. They fell directly to the floor because my cheeks had yet to reform themselves. I remembered his face as I looked at him dead, but I also remember him pushing the child in front of the car maliciously. Two memories clashing for dominance in the battleground of my mind; one laced with betrayal and the other grief. He looked at me with a soldier's eyes and told me that I would only get in the way. He told me I wasn't a true fairy. His magic seared my memories away and replaced them with lies. I felt him melding my mind so I wouldn't go looking for answers, so I wouldn't realize the inconsistencies inside my own past.

I fell to my newly formed knees as the image of him brutally murdering that child, our friends, with a smile on his face. To him he was working for the rest of our kind and I was a liability. I told him that I was happy there. I told him that these humans were our new family and he realized that I wouldn't help him with his plans.

How long had he been planning it?

I stood and glanced back at my wings as they formed, stretching out from my back purple and ending with light blue tips. I was haunted all at once by the face of people I'd killed, because I thought it was the parents' fault that the child had died. My hand flew to my mouth when Carl came to mind.

I loved Carl like a son, but discarded him when he tried to tell me what I had neglected to see. I sought out a pliant slave, but what I'd needed was exactly what Carl had given me. Qaliphus' deception caused so many people so much pain, and now he was planning something much worse. We were the last fairies alive, so there was only one option. He needed to bring the rest of our kind back to life.

I gasped. More heartbreak. This had been his plan the entire time, since we were forced to come into this world from our own. We could have hidden. We could have stayed there and never bother with this place, but this was the home to one of the most powerful artifacts known to man. Excalibur.

A weapon forged for a king long since fallen. Filled with fairy power and able to unleash devastating magic, it was the only thing that had enough power to reform all the fairies we'd lost in battle. He knew it was here, and that's why we ran to this realm. He's still fighting the Gods and now he's going to bring all the fairies here, to a world filled with beings I'd come to love. This war would tear the realm to shreds.

Ben and Carl. I needed their help. I leaped into the air and looked around. I had reformed inches away from a blonde girl wearing a black and white hoodie, with ears staring at a small object that kept flashing images across the front. An I-pad, I believe.

"I was waiting for you to reform. It's been almost a week." I knew that voice and was taken by surprise.

"You're that blonde bitch!", I went to fly off, but then realized something, "Wait. You can help me."

Her eyes never left the screen, "With what?"

"We have to warn Ben. Qaliphus is bringing my kind here, he's going to restart the war."

She was silent for what seemed like forever. I stared at her face as the light from her I-pad flashed across her face.

"Well?", I asked after twenty minutes had past. "Am I on my own?"

"YES!" She jumped to her feet, a large smile on her face, "Finally reached level 15 and got the ring of +7 fire resist!"

I was so surprised I fell back on my ass, "Wh-what? Are you okay?"

She looked at me finally and I could see the anger in her eyes, "Fine. Let's go warn him, but we need to be fast. I only have about 2 more hours of battery and if this shuts off, I lose everything that I've gained in the last hour. Oh, and one more thing."

She was like a different person.

"What?"

"My name is Christina. Don't call me a Blonde Bitch or I'll cut your wings off."

Some things don't change I guess.

Flashback 206: Humanitarian -Kelly-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What's your name?"

"Will. William Melahn."

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

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

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

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

204: Her Scent -Sara-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"How do you know her?"

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

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

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

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

"Ben her story doesn't add u-"

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

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

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

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

199: Life For A Life -Crystal-

I can't say I wasn't nervous. What would I say? How would I explain? The phone rang into my ear as I waited.

It felt like forever before someone picked up.

"Hello?" It was a gruff male voice, one I didn't recognize.

"Um, is William Ferguson there?"

"He's a little," the voice pulled away from the phone for a moment and then returned, "preoccupied at the moment."

"It's important that I talk to him immediately. Please put him on the phone."

"You wouldn't happen to be Crystal, would you?"

My heart sank. Something was wrong. How could this person possibly know me?

"Just put my Daddy on the phone. Please."

The voice laughed, "Sure thing." Again the voice moved away from the phone, "Hey! It's your daughter, she wants to talk to you. You can take it? All right." The voice returned, "He says he can take it. Just let me remove the duct tape."

A yelp of pain echoed through the phone followed by a stern "quiet" from the man on the phone. Some more shuffling and then a voice came over the phone, one I recognized.

"Hello?" I couldn't help but tear up when I heard his voice, "I don't know what kind of sick joke you're playing bu-"

"Daddy, do you remember what Mommy told us before she died? She was laying there pale and weak; so weak that she couldn't hold my hand. I was crying and you were trying to hide your sadness for me even though I could always see it. Do you remember?"

"How did you-" He sounded surprised.

"Daddy, she told you that the best moments of her life were the years she spent with you. She said," painful memories stung me to the bone, "She said that even though she'd only had a few years to spend with us, she couldn't imagine another life she would have rather lived."

"Oh my God." I could hear the surprise in his voice, "Crystal. How?"

"That's not all, then she looked at me and told me to love with everything I had. Then she closed her eyes, Daddy, she closed her eyes for the last time."

"You- you sound older. How did this happen? When can I see yo-", I heard a loud thunk as he was cut off. "THAT'S ENOUGH!" The other voice returned.

"So, I have a message to you from Patrick." The voice was very calm and dangerous, "By now, you've probably found that all your money is gone, right? That's why you had to call here."

They had my Daddy; Patrick had my Father. I felt the blood rush from my face as I whispered into the phone, "Yes."

"He thought you would, so I was told to wait here until you called and then tell you this." He laughed lightly, "Patrick says, 'A life for a life.' "

I heard him put the phone down and in the distance I heard my Daddy's voice, "Crystal, I love yo-"

The loud bang of a gun echoed through the phone.

198: Daddy? -Ben-

"I'm sorry sir, you've been declined." The clerk looked upset and confused.

I forced down the rising frustration, "Okay, I had plenty of money on there to pay for the rooms just earlier today. You must be doing something wrong."

"Sir, I've tried it three times. Maybe you should give the bank a call?" She looked at me timidly.

"I think I will." I turned to see Nick and Crystal walking through the hotel doors.

"What's going on?", Nick jogged up, "Is there a problem?"

"They're telling me I have no money. I just checked the balance earlier today."

"No problem, let me see if I can help." Nick handed his card to the clerk and in a few moments it was returned with the same explanation.

"We have no money. Who could be doing this?", Nick looked exasperated.

"We can't even pay for a way back."

"I might be able to help.", Crystal spoke up, her voice shaky and unsure. "I could call my Daddy."

I'm sure that Nick and I had the same surprised look on our face. Crystal had chosen not to talk to her father, because there was no way she could explain this.

"You don't have to. We'll find another way to pay.", I stated.

"No. After losing Vincent," she looked at the floor, "I don't want to lose anyone else. I'm going to have to find a way to tell him."

She walked to the hotel phone and dialed the number.

197: Completion -Sara-

Incomplete. I was incomplete. I must become whole again, but to do that I'd need to find all the pieces. I could see them all around me everyday as I moved through this place. I was in pieces and slowly I would collect myself to become one again.

"Mister?" She was small, but she had a piece, "Are you okay? You look sick. I think you're bleeding."

She was right, I was bleeding. These vessels weren't strong enough to contain me and would eventually explode. Even after I leave them, the strain is too much and it usually kills them. Such fragile beings. If I could find a stronger vessel than this it would be much easier, less murderous. I didn't want to have to kill these creatures, but I was incomplete. I needed to be whole again.

Adding a new piece calmed me for a time, until I felt the gnawing urge for completion again. I felt it now as I looked at the young child in front of me. Why was she alone? Where was her guardian? Those questions quickly became irrelevant as the need overcame me. I began to detach myself from this vessel, allowing small amounts of their free will come back as I reached out to the little girl.

First I released the pain, so I didn't feel as the vessel's chest slowly split open. I watched the girl's eyes go wide as the blood spilled onto the ground. She turned to run but I was too fast. My arm whipped out, clipping her on the side of the head and she crumpled to the ground. I turned to the alley wall and coated my hand with blood.

After I retrieved the next piece, I couldn't be sure what I would remember. I had to leave myself a message, telling me what to do next. Direction was what I would need if I was to survive. I couldn't allow myself to be caught, but what should I do next?

I searched the vessel's mind for the part I needed, and began melding it to me. I had to get this piece before I leave. It would be many, many months before I found this specific piece again. As I finished, I learned where I needed to go next.

Soon my defense mechanism would kick in, and I would not remember anything for a long time. I had to give myself direction. My hand slid along the wall as I wrote the words and immediately after finishing, I released myself completely and flowed into the girl. The old vessel was too far gone to scream and as my memory faded, I watched his body explode.

My eyes roamed over the words as I began to lose consciousness.

"Find Crystal Ferguson."

I could taste the next piece already.

196: Not Dead -Carl-

"Melissa isn't dead, Carl. She's out there somewhere causing more mayhem, and we have to stop her before she goes too far." The small fairy flew up and gave me a fierce gaze.

I had been in my hotel room for only 10 minutes alone when I had heard the tapping on the window. I was surprised to find a male fairy floating outside waiting to get in.

"I'm not going anywhere. My friend just died, I have to be here for the people that need me."

"I wish it was different, Carl, but this is more important than that. She's been planning something for a very long time and it's all coming together slowly. The pact, Joshua, your curse being broken; all of it a part of her plan, everything working together toward a single, horrible goal. One that we cannot allow to come to fruition."

"Who are you?" I hadn't had a chance to ask him his name before he'd started ranting about going after Melissa.

"My name is Qaliphus. I was with Melissa when she came to this world. Soon after I realized her intentions and had to fake my own death so that I could find a way to stop her. It saddens me to say that several innocents lost their lives so that I could get away, but they were needed sacrifices for the greater good."

I was getting angry. This fairy was dancing around the subject, not getting to his point. It was almost as though he was ashamed. I walked to the mini-bar and poured myself a drink.

"What's she planning?"

The fairy smiled, "We lost the war between us and the Gods. Melissa and I had escaped with the intentions of settling down and hiding. I wanted nothing more than to live out the rest of my life, but Melissa had other intentions. While I was growing attached to humans, she was becoming less sympathetic for their kind. The only humans she had any feelings for were the children. She saw them as completely innocent and untouched by the evil of age."

I was growing impatient as I took another gulp of my drink. I walked to the bed and sat on it, thinking about everything Melissa had done.

"She told me of her plans one night and I was horrified. Carl, she plans on bringing all the fairies back."

I stared at the small fairy, his eyes were honest and his face stern.

"Why are you against that? You're a fairy yourself."

He sighed and sat at the edge of the bed, "I'm a traitor, Carl. I never told Melissa, but I told the Gods our battle plans in the final battle." He shook his head, "My people are a cruel and heartless race. We know nothing of mercy and strive to control everything we can. Even our magics used to belong to another race that we wiped out. We tortured humans for fun, murdering them when we got bored. As I grew up I began to feel sorry for the humans, and when I had the chance to save them, I took it."

I raised a brow, "You wiped out your entire race to save mine? That's bold. Very, very bold."

I had to admit, I was impressed. Qaliphus had went against everything he was raised to believe to stop the torture of another race. I could see that it was difficult for him, but I could also tell that he was set on keeping humans safe at all costs.

"So," I put my glass down, "what makes you think she's not dead?"

"Fairies are notoriously hard to kill. If her name isn't used to kill her then she's not dead. You need to understand that she's planned so far ahead and if she succeeds, then the human race will be wiped out in seconds."

"How did the Gods even have any chance of winning against your race if they didn't know your names?" I knew her name was powerful but I didn't know it was required to kill her. No wonder it was the only thing that could control her.

I had already decided that I would go with him. I reached over to grab a shirt, and a sword that I'd snatched from the museum in the turmoil. As I stood he flew up to the door.

"They didn't, not until I gave them all the fairies names." I saw his strong demeanor falter slightly. I saw a deep sadness.

Could I kill my entire race to save another?

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.

188: Underestimated Race -Ben-

The museum had changed since I'd fallen asleep. The lobby where I stood was filled with people lying on the ground unconscious, and surrounding them were large, hulking beasts. A bloody pile of headless people sat in the corner and gave off a horrid scent.

Every thing froze when I stood up. The creatures looked at me with confusion, as if they'd never seen that happen before. For several minutes they stared at me and as they did I began to fill with an unexplainable fear.

"Why don't I hear the sound of smashin-", a naked, young, redhead boy stepped around one of the beasts, "What?! How did this happen?"

"Maybe Patrick knew more than you did." A voice next to me spoke in a soft tone that I recognized. Looking over I could see the translucent form of the girl I had killed.

The young boy sneered, "Are you saying you did this? No human has ever escaped that prison."

"I'm a little confused . . . who are you?" The boy looked at me as I spoke.

"He's the God of Fear. He was released from the door, I think. He's looking for something and started killing everyone." The girl then whispered, "His name is Bob."

"Please explain to me how exactly you are standing in front of me." Bob looked furious.

"You're the cause of all this.", my voice came out barely a whisper, "You killed all these people. You forced me to kill an innocent. You put everyone I care about at risk."

"Oh please, it's not like any of you matter. You're just humans. You're a stupid, barbaric race that has no defining features at all. What does it matter if a few of you die?", Bob laughed.

"You're sick.", Alice spoke with conviction.

"I'm sick? No, young one. I'm powerful. Look around you; at your friends. Humans aren't powerful enough to save themselves. They're weak in every way, and with out someone to protect them they are easily picked off! You think you matter? You don't! Insignificant and meager, that's what you humans are. I've crushed thousands of you in my time so you don't have the right to think low of me!"

I felt my anger raise. This guy had hurt so many people, all to prove his strength.

"Awww. Is the human getting upset?", Bob laughed at me, "The truth hurts. I'm the most powerful person here and I can crush all of you in a moment. There's nothing any of you can do about it. Yes, you escaped, but you're alone. Your only ally is the ghost at your side, and she can't do anything to help any of you. Your friends are at my feet, and as long as they stay there, nothing you say can make me think otherwise. Humans are weak, uncoordinated, barbaric, unintelligent and unimportant." Bob emphasized each of his words with a stomp.

On the last stomp, the room erupted with noise as everyone in the room woke up all at once.

Bob's face was priceless.

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.

182: The many versus the one -Alice-

"Do you know what you did?" A voice floated up to me from down the stairs.

"I was saving people. I had no choice." That was Ben.

"You always have a choice, and you murdered her. A poor innocent little girl, dead. All because you wanted something and she was in the way." The voice was very similar to Ben's except rough and sinister.

"It wasn't like that. He was going to kill all of them, I had to stop him." Ben's voice cracked.

"You lie," The other voice rose to a yell, "You wanted to save yourself! You could care less about the girl! You are turning out just like I predicted, a monster."

Ben's sobs could be heard from where I was standing at the top of the stairs. I was hit with conflicting emotions, one part of me felt upset that Ben was going through this but another part felt that justice was being done, that this was what Ben deserved. I was locked in place unable to move because I wasn't sure if I needed to help him.

All he'd ever done for me is end my life.

"I'm not a monster. I'm not."

"Well, here's your chance to prove it. Hurry and make a choice otherwise all those children . . . poor innocent children will drown," The voice laughed, "Only you can make the choice to save them, but you'd have sacrifice thi-"

A loud bang interrupted his sentence and pulled me out of my thoughts. That sound was one I recognized. Another child had died, another me. The murderer had struck again.

"See . . . I told you Ben . . ." His words faded and the entire building vibrated violently.

When the vibrations had stopped, I was still standing at the top of the stairs.

"Do you know what you did?" It was that sinister voice again.

"What is going on!? Not this again! When will it end?" Ben was yelling at no one now.

"You always have a choice, and you murdered her. A poor innocent little girl, dead. All because you wanted something and she was in the way." A deep chuckle followed that sentence.

"I didn't want her to die. I'm not a monster. Please, just let me go."

It was replaying itself over again. The whole scene over again. Ben was in a loop, reliving his greatest sin forever. He deserved it. I turned to the door and as I went to open it I heard the other voice again and it stopped me cold.

"Well, here's your chance to prove it."

 I spun around and ran down the stairs two at a time. Ben pulled himself out of the chair as I got into the room. Blood and brain matter splattered all over my face as the shotgun's loud bang echoed in the small room.

This time the voice said something different, "Who are you . . . " and the walls began to vibrate again. Everything blurred together and when it has all stopped moving I found myself at the top of the stairs again.

"Do you know what you did?"

I didn't wait to hear Ben's answer. I bolted down the stairs and entered the room. Sitting in the middle of the room were to chairs. In one sat Ben, completely untied and able to move, yet he looked trapped. He looked as though he didn't want to move.

In the other chair sat a younger me. I ran to myself as tears filled my eyes.

"It will be okay. I'll get you out." I couldn't help but notice how terrified I looked. I looked like I knew what was coming, I looked like I wanted a mother that I'd never had.

"NO!" It was Ben. "Not her, save them first." He nodded behind me.

I turned to see three large clear vats of water, each one filled to the top and then covered with a heavy metal plate. Inside each of those containers was a child struggling to breathe. My heart flew to my throat as I turned to the younger me and then back.

"I'm sorry." I ran to the vats of water and gripped the heavy metal plate. Just as I had begun to get it sliding, two strong hands grabbed my wrists and pulled me away.

"I won't let you ruin this for me! Where did you come from?"

Time seemed to slow as I was pulled away from saving those children. They were in such agony that they didn't even notice that I'd been pulled away. I watched the air bubbles slowly filter from their mouths and felt a piece of me die as they struggled against the heavy metal plates. I pushed against my captor in an attempt to get over to them; to save them before their life left.

The hands were strong, to strong for me. They pulled me farther back until I could see the two chairs again and realized that there was only one option.

The only way to save those kids, would be to kill myself. At that moment, everything that Ben had done became clear. He had been given a choice, and I was the necessary sacrifice. No other options were available except the one that killed me. I felt tears fill my eyes as I tightly closed them.

"BEN! SAVE THEM!"

"I know." ,was what he said, followed by a loud bang as my younger self's head exploded.

"You're both monsters." The hands loosened their grip as the walls began to vibrate again.

In a few short moments, I stood at the top of the stairs once again.

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.

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.

173: Flashback; The Sweet Escape -Melissa- (by Crystal Ferguson)

We had to leave our home land behind, the Other Lands, in order to ensure our survival. Many of the Gods longed to end our existence. We were the last of our kind. Staying there would only bring inevitable death.


Qaliphus and I decided to settle in to this world; the world of humans. Here, we would be able to hide from the Gods. Here, we could bloom a whole new life together. Knowing this filled me with tingling feelings.


To share a life with Qaliphus that did not dwell around constant fighting was a pleasant thought for me.


He had great skill behind him, but he also possessed a softer side; one that didn't show too often. He was a warrior first and a friend second. We had mutual respect for one another’s power; though the feelings I had for him were overwhelming. Sadly, his feelings were not the same when it came to me. Oddly enough, I was okay with this. After all, I still had the pleasure of keeping him by my side. As long as he was there, I was perfectly content. Oh, Qaliphus…


Upon our arrival to the human world, he and I came across a seemingly loving family. There were two adults and three children. The oldest of the children was ten, the middle child to be six, and the youngest was four. All young enough to be able to see us. Of course, the parents were unable to see us. They never had contact with our world to have such privileged sight. At least they didn't question their children; the parents just thought it was their children’s imagination at work when the topic of Fay were brought up. Either way, we settled in rather smoothly with the humans.


The children took to us quickly, filled with much awe that creatures such as Qaliphus and I existed. Every now and again I would simply observe as he played with the three boys. He played hide and seek or tag, told stories of great triumph, and would some times pull a prank or two on them. They would laugh in delight from his shenanigans. It warmed my tiny body and brought a smile to my face to see such interaction. This was the side of Qaliphus that I adored the most. He might have had the will to kill in an instant, but his will to bring happiness was far more astonishing to me.


As the weeks passed, my love for Qaliphus began to grow all the more. I had never felt more happy in my entire life. Qaliphus and I were closer than ever before, or at least that’s how it felt to me.


I longed to be able to forever keep him by my side; to love him unconditionally.




Fate decided otherwise.

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?

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.

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.