Take a look!

I've started a new blog everyone.

I've already begun work on a novel and I'll be posting weekly chapters on the new blog for everyone to read until I'm finished writing. Here's a bit of what it's about:

Jason Brand is new to town and hates it. Due to an angry outburst in an argument with his father he discovers something that changes everything. 

In no time he's teamed up with Gretta (a girl from school) and investigating the hidden past of Ulster County and the even more unusual present. Suddenly a secret is revealed that puts him right in the middle of the maelstrom and he'll have to adjust because one thing is becoming increasingly clear . . . 

This is his home now.

 Please give the entire first chapter a read through and let me know what you think. If you like it then share it and all that jazz.

Now, this doesn't mean that I'm finished with Unusual Circumstances or Obviam Vita. In fact they may be updated more often then usual.

I so hope you enjoy it and I'll catch you people later.

-Timothy

Flashback 216: I Will Not -Indigo-

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

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

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

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

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

"You will answer, Patrick!"

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

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

"I will not."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Patrick.

Flashback 211: Adjusting part 1 -Christina-

"Miss," He tugged at my armor for the fourth time, "Miss, could you grab that candy off the top shelf?"

He'd been tugging on my armor since I'd walked into the store, and immediately after I noticed that everyone was staring at me. I knelt down till I was eye level with the young boy and smiled, "If you like those fingers then you'll stop bothering me, okay? Now go ask your mom for help before I chop off those stubbly toes."

Very quickly his face transformed into a wail and I regretted not just helping the boy. His mother came running and pulled him away from me.

"What did you do to my boy? He never cries like this!" She stormed out of the store as I turned back to the newspaper. It had been a long time since I'd been put inside that jar and things had certainly changed. Most humans seemed even more mindless save for the few that I'd met before.

They were still squabbling over religion and killing each other for material possessions; barbarians in a suit. Feeling a tap on my shoulder I spun around grabbing my assailant and flipping him on to the stack of papers. I twisted his arm so it was under his body and then slammed my elbow into his gut.

"I'm not here to hurt you!" He cried, "I'm not here to hurt! Let me go!"

I released him and pushed him off the newspaper, "You shouldn't have come up behind me. Now go, I'm not in need of help."

"Listen, the manager of the store has called the police and they will be here any second. So, we kind of have to get out of here before they show up."

"I can kill them if they decide to attack me."

"I don't doubt it, but killing is really bad and will just make more show up. They're kind of like roaches, where there's one there's hundreds."

"Fine, what do you suggest?" I grabbed a newspaper and something called a RingDing.

"We le-" He stopped and slapped his forehead, "Too late."

"Hello, Miss? I think you should come down to the station with us." A person behind me spoke with authority. He made himself sound so important that a small giggle escaped my lips. I turned to see a small man with his hands on his hips. The only weapons seemed to be a large stick and a really small L-shape object.

"I'm really sorry officers." The man behind me stepped around to the front, "This is my mentally challenged sister an-"

"I am not your sister." I would not tolerate someone lying about me, "and what is mentally challenged? If I find out you're insulting me . . . "

The man looked like he'd just lost a fight, "You were not supposed to disagree."

"You lied, how is that disagreeing? I just told the truth."

The short man grabbed my arm, "Alright, your both coming with me!"

Elbow to face was my response. The man stumbled backwards, his hands holding his bleeding nose. I grabbed his right shoulder and spun him so he was facing the window of the shop. From there it only took a small kick to send him out the window.

"Holy Shit!" Two voices, the man that lied and the other "police" outside, who was eating a doughnut. The clumsy man dropped his doughnut in surprise as the short man flew out the window. Glass littered the ground and I heard some people scream behind me.

The man outside lifted up the L-shaped object and pointed it at me, he was shaking.

"Put your weap-" He noticed that I had no weapons and blinked a few times, "Come out with your hands up, both of you!"

Was raising the hands the new bow? I would never do that! I stepped out the window, one glance at the short man told me he was alive.

"Hands up! Now!" He was still pointing the object toward me.

The man who lied stepped down next to me, "You are a piece of work. I was trying to avoid something like this. Now please put your hands up before this only gets worse. You see what he's holding? It's a gun, it can kill you."

I knelt down and grabbed a small shard of glass, "Oh, it's a weapon." I flicked my wrist and a loud thwack was heard followed by a clattering noise as the gun fell to the ground.

"Oh, no." The man beside me put his hand over his face.

I slide up next to the police man as he reached for his gun. I grabbed his belt and lifted him in the air. A quick jab to the gut and he quickly went limp, "What? He was wielding a weapon. What was I supposed to do?"

I glared at the man as he reached for my arm, stopping him mid-grab.

"Lady, you need to follow me before more of them show up."

"You're very annoying with your demands."

"Yeah, I'm told that a lot. Now come on."

I followed him as he ran down the street and jumped a fence.

207: Sanity -Saba-

"You won't survive this. Let me out . . . I can protect you."

I shook my head as I ran down the hall away from the horrible, young child that Will had left for me to keep an eye on. The girl claimed that she was Crystal's sister, but it was an obvious lie. When we were alone I called her on the lie and she just flipped out.

I heard the teeny explosions as people looked out to find what the noise was, only to have their heads removed from their bodies. Whoever this girl was, she had immense power and was a danger to everyone. I glanced back to see her slowly walking down the hall behind me.

Behind her, the hallway was a mess of blood and brain matter. As the girl stepped on the rug little splashes of blood splattered on her and the walls. Her face was in a state of ecstasy as though she was getting her fix off every head that explodes in her presence.

"I can't let you out. I'll never get you back under control. You could hurt the people I care about."

More explosions. A family of four becomes a family of none.

"I thought we came to an agreement?! You're going to die unless you let me take over."

The other me was right, and I was running out of hallway. I pushed open the door to the stairs and quickly made my way down.

"The only agreement we came to was keeping Ben safe. This isn't affecting Ben at all."

I was halfway down the second set of stairs when the door above flew off its hinges. I could hear steps down the stairs as I finished the second set.

"Wow." Her voice was childish and malicious, "Being around you makes it easier for me to get the pieces I need. I wonder what it'd be like if I could just get inside your head."

My foot caught on a step and I tumbled down the stairs. An attempt to stand was met with extreme pain through out my entire leg.

"If you're dead, then you can't protect Ben. If she reaches us before you stop being stupid then we're dead . . . you have to know that. Just . . . give me control."

No choice. No choice but to let her be in control. She could help.

I looked at the top of the stairs and my breath caught. There she was staring down at me like a hungry beast at their next meal. She was terrifying, powerful, small, fragile . . . dead.

"It's about time you caught up to me." I smiled my signature dark smile, "I've always wanted to know what it'd feel like to wear a child's skin."

She paused, "Well, this is different."

Her face was what I concentrated on. It was an expression that was the best part of being a monster. The only emotion I felt was the right one to be expressed toward me. This girl was scared.

"Mmmmm." I pulled myself up ignoring the pain in my leg, something the other me could never do, "All this violence is making me tingly in places children your age shouldn't know about."

"What are you? Why aren't you terrified of me anymore?", she pulled herself together and the fear disappeared.

"I eat your type for breakfast . . . " I winked, "Literally."

I stepped up the stairs toward her, and she took a step back. I could see that she was weighing her options. I had completely surprised her.

"When they sent you up here to me, did you expect someone fragile and weak? Ben's much smarter than that. He didn't send you to me because of my weaker, more humane," I spit, "self. I'm the reason he left you here. So let's start with what you are."

As I made my way up the stairs I could tell she wasn't sure what to do, but I knew she understood the trouble she was in.

"I'm very old and much stronger than you." She obviously believed that, "I've been around for as long as humans have existed, maybe even longer."

"You aren't telling me anything of importance." I took a deep breath of the blood scented air, "These are your last moments, the least you could do is be more open with me."

Red flooded the front of the girl's dress, but she didn't scream. Instead she looked at me and smiled, "You want me to be more open? Well, how's this for being open?"

With that the girl's body burst open and fell to the floor. Standing in her place was a tall red-headed young woman completely nude and covered with blood. It was my turn to be put off guard by this unusual transformation.

"Ahh, so I've collected enough pieces to manifest my true form." She looked at me with eyes that I'd seen many times. She was an unsigned Goddess. One of Patrick's kind. I suddenly felt completely outranked.

"I'm not unsigned. I passed with flying colors and was signed." She smiled and bowed, "I'm the Goddess of Memory, or at least I was until they locked me away."

In a second she had me against the wall with her hand at my throat. Her strength was amazing, more so than even Bob had exhibited. I could feel her fingers biting into my neck.

"Sex-y." I smiled at her, "Why don't you and me find a room somewhere? I'll teach you how to scream with out making a sound."

Her grip tightened, "All I need from you is the piece I'm missing." She put her other hand on my forehead and after a few moments her face became quizzical, "You- don't have it. Why don't you have the piece I need?" She slammed me against the wall, "What are you?!"

I had trouble talking, "Let's play . . .", I coughed the words out slowly, "some show and tell."

My weaker self was screaming at me to stop making her mad. I took her advice in to consideration long enough to spit in the Goddess' face. She tossed me down the stairs in response. I hit the floor and slid in to the wall.

"You are not important to me if you are not in possession of what I seek. You can leave with your life.", she turned to walk away, but I wasn't having that. I called upon the dead, urging them to wrap themselves around the door she'd kicked down earlier.

"STOP!" She did, and slowly turned around.

"You are just asking for me to kill you." She tilted her head, "Or could you be trying to save the people of this hotel?"

That question made me very confused. I could just let her go, she wasn't a threat to me or anyone I cared about right now. Why was I stopping her? That's when it hit me, I was losing control. I took a deep breath of the disgusting air and all I wanted was Ben to hold me.

A loud clang was heard behind the Goddess as the door fell to the ground. My powers had faded because the evil me was deep within. I fearfully looked at the red haired Goddess and gave my best fearless face.

"You're a big meany-head."

She started laughing. She laughed for about 2 minutes and then her laughter turned to screams, "NO! . . . agh . . . urgh . . . I need more pieces . . . I need a body to hold me."

Her eyes fell on me and I felt a cold chill.

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.

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.

194: Two Dollars -Crystal-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I heard Nick walk toward the hotel.

I stared at the window for another two hours.

193: Who is . . . -Sara-

"Police investigate the mass murder at New York's Museum of Natural history, where seventeen people were killed at the hands of a mentally unstable young man. The suspect, a 12 year old male, was apprehended by a small group of civilians. After which, he suffered a complete mental break and is now being admitted to a nearby institution."

Pain in my head accompanied with the noise of the television pulled me from my sleep. Sitting up, I rubbed my eyes and glanced at the bright television; the only light in the room besides the digital clock which read 1:27am.

"The civilians had recently been awarded because of their help stopping an aerial terrorist attack just yesterday. Ben, the apparent leader, has stated that they were just doing what they felt was right."

I rubbed my head as I tried to recall where I was and how I'd gotten here. The pain made the room sway and tilt as I stood to walk toward the light switch.

"The Museum incident was not the only murders this week as police and private investigators try to solve a string of what are now being called the "Identity Murders", because of the unusual messages at the crime scenes."

The last thing I remembered was dropping off my dog to the vet. He had broken his leg and they wanted to keep him overnight. I shook my head to rid myself of the fog that seemed to settle in just after I left the building. I couldn't remember and trying to just made my head hurt so much more. What was going on?

"The Police claim to have many leads, but don't have enough for an arrest. That concludes the news for tonight. Have a nice evening."

I leaned against the wall. Had I been drinking? Was this a hotel room or something? Was I with someone?

"Hello?", my voice felt lonely in the dark, but I didn't want to turn on the light and wake someone, "Is anyone there? I think maybe I drank too much last night."

I laughed lightly, "Which is weird, because I usually don't drink. Hello?"

I stood there in the dark silence waiting for an answer and that's when I smelled it. It smelled like rotting meat, and bad eggs. It was so strong, coming from all over the place. I felt myself gag.

My finger flicked the switch and whatever I'd eaten last night ended up on the floor.

What was left of a young male was spread across the floor. His head had been beaten until it resembled a deflated balloon, and his body had been peeled open and laid out like one of those bear carpets. Blood was everywhere, including on me. Panic set in as I tried to wipe my hands off on my clothes.

I looked for the bathroom and that's when I saw the words written in blood on the wall.

"Who is Sara Coons?"

Seeing those words made my head hurt even worse. I stumbled into the bathroom and splashed water on my face before the memory of what laid in the other room made me retch again. When that calmed down I sat on the edge of the tub and stared at my reflection in the mirror. Slowly I felt the panic build as my mind wandered to all the possibilities. Where was the killer? Would they be back? How did they know my name? Why didn't they kill me?

What was going on?

185: Trapped Inside Himself -Andrew-

"You were destroyed. How are you here? Patrick got rid of you." I stepped back to find myself against the wall.

"You cannot destroy us, Daddy. Why would you want to? How could you?"

"You made me weak!", I felt the panic rise as my heart stepped toward me again, "I had to remove you to survive!"

I felt his hands grasp my collar and lift me into the air. For a frail and starving person, he displayed an unusual amount of strength. His grip tightened as he looked at me.

"You . . . you tried to remove your own daughter!" He spun and tossed me into a wall. Pain coursed through my body as I pulled myself to my feet.

"You have no idea what kind of pain I was in! You weren't there! You'd left me to fight it on my own!"

Till that day I'd never realized just how painful my fist could feel, "I was always there! Protecting the parts of you that were most important."

"You're a liar!" I swung my fist, but it never connected. It fell to my side; I couldn't fight him. I didn't want to. This was never supposed to happen. I was never supposed to face this part of me ever again. It was supposed to be dead.

"You were there for years and you didn't break. What do you think caused that? Every time the whip hit your skin, your daughter was there holding your hand! Every time they taunted you to break, I sat at your ear whispering the truths you needed to know. I was telling you to stay strong! Every time you screamed, Stephanie wiped away the tears and kissed you till you calmed." His foot smashed into my stomach. I fell to my knees.

"Why did I break then? Why did it work?!"

"It worked because Patrick muffled us. He destroyed everything that is good by stopping us from keeping you strong."

"Why would he do that? What is the point?"

My heart knelt down and put its hand on my shoulder, "I don't know, but we can find out. Accept us back. Let us out. Free us, Andrew."

Patrick had betrayed me. He'd been in control of my answer before I even made it. I was being manipulated, and had done unspeakable acts because of his influence. I'd killed people. I felt the anger boil as I remembered all the horrible deeds I'd committed in his name.

"Okay. Let's figure it out together, and then . . . we kill Patrick."

I woke up screaming for Patrick's blood.

178: Can't Destroy Good -Andrew-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Standing in front of me, was my heart.

I wonder if it's mad?

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.

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 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.

Christmas Special: Future -Ben-

(Well, I haven't posted anything in a while but I was busy with a few other things. Until a couple of days ago when I realized what day was fast approaching. So, in honor of Christmas I am going to give everyone a little sneak peek into the future of all the characters in the blog. So I present what could happen . . . if . . .)

"I miss John."

Crystal looked out from my porch at the snow covered lawn. Nick stood behind her, his arms protecting her from the cold. Nick smiled gently and kissed the back of her head.

"I do too. He was a great man. He gave a lot for us all. So did Ben."

Crystal smiled and turned, "You did too. I'm just glad you weren't taken away from me like they were."

She leaned in and just as they were about to kiss, a light flashed over them. Turning, Crystal and Nick looked out at the approaching car.

"Patrick is here!"

Crystal slipped out of Nick’s arms and smiled widely as she bounded down the steps.

"Patrick! You made it!"

The car slowly came to a stop. Nick turned to the door and called in, "Johnathon! Benjamin! Patrick is here!"

Down the steps the children leaped, running out to the car and in to the arms of Patrick as he got out of the car. Behind them came Saba, who stopped in the door and smiled at Nick, "You interrupted our game of Soul Caliber. I was winning."

"I guess you'll have to win another time.", Patrick said as he carried the two boys over his shoulders in to the house. In all the time that had past Patrick hadn't aged, not at all. He still had this presence about him, except it had long since become more benevolent.

Patrick set the children down and looked at Nick, "Are you ready?"

Crystal walked up to Nick and grasped his hand, "Do you have to? You go every Christmas."

Nick smiled and leaned in to kiss her, "I have to. One day he'll come out of it. I just know it."

Crystal returned the kiss and then pulled away, "Patrick, have you heard from Carl or Vincent?"

"They said they would be here for dinner, so I'd expect them to be here very soon."

"And Will?"

"What about me?" Through the door he walked, a large smile on his face and two massive presents under his arms. He set the presents down and hugged both Saba and Crystal.

"Boy, do I have tales for you guys."

That was Will, always telling tales and catching every one’s attention. He and Patrick had decided to bury the hatchet, especially after he found out the truth.

Will turned to Patrick and shook his hand, "Have a good drive. Give him my regards."

And with that, Patrick and Nick slipped in to the car and drove off.

A few hours had passed when they finally pulled in to the driveway of The Bernauw Mental Institution. Nick and Patrick walked up to the doors, waving at an orderly as they passed. The two didn't talk much, this was very hard for both of them. No one enjoyed seeing John like this.

Possessed, only his will holding it inside. Protecting us all.

They could hear John's rants as they approached the door. The door they never opened, just listened through.

After seven years, the rants hadn't changed.

"They tell me things, then I eat them. O' Dorothy, Dorothy!"

"Merry Christmas, John.", Nick whispered.

I looked through the window at him and wished I'd taken his place. He'd have been better dead. Like me.

142: Lies, Lies, Lies -Crystal-

I watched him as he sat on the Hotel bed eating and watching television. This was a disaster and I didn't have to be Ben to see that.

"Why'd you tell him he could go with us?", Ben was not happy.

This seemed to be something constant with me. Going to the wrong person for help and getting everyone in more trouble. First it was Saba, and now Will.

"It was payment. I told him he could go with us if he did me a favor."

Nick looked at me, "What favor?"

"Nick, right?", Will suddenly spoke, "She wanted me to look you up. Dig in to your past to figure out how dangerous you are."

I suddenly wished I'd found a reporter with a bit more tact, or at least some restraint. I felt everyone's eyes on me as I sat there.

I was about to try to explain when Will spoke again, "Fact is, she's right. You are a very dangerous man, Nick. Seventeen years ago you decimated an entire village of 100 people, and based on the eye-witness accounts, it only took you 13 minutes to do it. On top of that, you were committed in an old folks home at the same time this happened. You also were reported dead a few weeks ago."

Ben glanced at Nick and then me, "How is this possible?"

"Oh that's easy.", Will shut off the television and pointed at Nick, "He is a fake, a sham, a liar, and judging by his lack of skill in covering it up he's also a noob."

Nick put his hand in front of him, "Whoa now, just hold on a secon-"

"Now I don't know why he would use the alias of an obviously dangerous man, maybe he's just dumb, but I couldn't find any record of him except for footage of him walking out of the home that the real Nick Brown had been admitted to."

Nick sounded exasperated, "I woke up there. I-"

"See, she was right to call me and have me check up on him. If she hadn't, he'd have been still learning all there was to learn about all of your secrets."

Ben frowned at Will, "Just like what you're going to be doing."

"At least I'm honest about it. Tell me, has Nick done anything that sticks out, something so glaringly wrong that it's the first thing that you think of when you talk to him?"

I watched Ben's face and knew he was thinking about the man that had been murdered on the plane. Nick had just burned him to a crisp, with out even flinching. We should have at least attempted to rid him of the possession.

"Fine, seeing as there are many secrets going on between the three of you, all of you will stay here while Carl and I examine this case."

"That wasn't the deal."

"Your deal was with her, and she's staying here."

I should have told Ben my suspicions before I acted on them. Now I'm going to be stuck in the Hotel room with an angry warlock, and an annoying reporter.

Tomorrow was going to be interesting.

134: Sweet Love -Saba-

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

"Brother?", it was younger me again.

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

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

"We all become dirt eventually."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Your only sister.", little me corrected

"My favorite sister."

This time, there was no evil laughter.

133: Concrete Horror -Saba-

I was floating in the dark, listening to the continuously grating sound of that horrible laughter. Any attempts to move proved ineffective and only made it harder to do so.

"Where are you going?" My blood ran cold as I recognized the voice, though I couldn't put a face to it.

Slowly my surroundings flooded in to focus. An elegant hall of hardwood lined with many paintings and photos. A smaller me stood a few feet away from a much taller man. The laughter faded away.

"Saba, where are you going?"

The smaller me started to cry, "I can't do it."

I watched as the man knelt down and looked in to my face, a look of caring in his eyes, "Life is never going to be easy, Saba. It's going to be hard, and sometimes the only thing you can do to get by is try as hard as you can to do what you need to do."

My fear subsided as little me ran to the taller man and wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug. Just as I thought that this scene wasn't so scary, I heard that low laughter again and the fear returned.

"Thanks, Patrick."

The man stood and reached his hand out to little me, "Anything for my little sister."

A smile found my face for a few moments before the laughter came again. The smaller me took his hand as we walked toward large, oaken doors.

The man put his hand on the door, "Now Saba, you go in there and make sure they're all dead."

He pushed the door open and screams flooded out. Screams of help and horror that filled my ears and saturated my mind with a deepening horror. The scene that seemed so pleasant before changed shape, instantly becoming something of a deeper evil. My breath caught in my chest, I tried to close my eyes and forget I was there. It was like a tootsie pop with a razor in the middle; sweet on the outside, but it just hides the horror beneath.

"Can we have ice cream after?", the smaller me smiled up to Patrick.

"Sure."

Through the door I could see deep red splatters on the floor and hear the clinking of chains.

The littler me stepped through and turned toward where the sounds were coming from.

"Saba! Please, God no!" They were begging for their life. Begging me to let them go, "Saba, your brother is crazy. Please honey, just let us go! You can't do this to us."

As Patrick slowly closed the door I watched as my smaller counterpart smiled sweetly, with all the caring of a child and said, "Daddy, life is never going to be easy . . ."

Her voice was cut off as the door shut completely. The laughter returned and this time I welcomed it, something known in a world of concrete horror. The laughter grew in intensity as I hung there in darkness, watching Patrick looking away from me at the closed door.

"That's not me."

"Yes, it is you." The laughter had spoken.

"No, I wouldn't do something like that." I was lying. I knew I was lying, I just didn't want it to be the truth.

"Not only did you kill your family, but you did more than that.", the laughter came again, "You killed a person every day for two years after."

In my head, I saw flashes of blood soaked bodies and glinting knives. In my head I heard their screams for help and mercy. The more I watched, the more I felt the innocence I'd witnessed before slowly fade away. I desperately clung to any piece of that innocence that I could.

"All for power."

I knew what he was meaning. I felt it in my bones now, maybe I'd always knew that my hands were unclean. A person isn't born a spirit persuader, they're grown. So many lives had been ended by me, so many people never got to live their lives because of my blade. All in the pursuit of power over spirits.

"It's too late for you.", Patrick had turned and was staring directly at me, "There's no way to clean your hands. You are a monster, and you'll always be a monster."

Every time he said monster I saw something odd flash beneath the illusion I knew to be his face. A darker and more evil face, something not human and older than the world. Patrick started walking closer and the scene behind him faded away.

"You killed so many.", Patrick's face blinked away for an instant and the horror of the face beneath made me catch my breath, "You are more of a monster than I am."

His face was inches from mine and he smiled, his mouth full of sharp pointy teeth with a smile that was all too wide. "Not only did you kill them . . ."

As I felt myself yanked backwards into the darkness, I knew what he was going to say; not only did I kill them . . .

But I loved it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I was on my own.

130: Uncertain Knowledge -Crystal-

My job was to stop Nick from casting the spell as soon as they had the cockpit, but I couldn't. To be honest the guy scared me. Here was the guy who fought the Snake Goddess' control of me when I was a zombie and had brought me back to life. He could do things no other human could, and being in the same room with him left me with a sick feeling. I had no idea what he would do next.

Somehow, this one was different; less menacing and certainly not as mean. If this was the same man, then something very serious happened to him. This new him was filled with a sort of youth and really didn't exhibit any of the abilities the one I'd met had.

As I reached to shake his shoulder I decided to give him another chance. See if he turned out to have the same ruthless style.

He lifted his head and looked at me, "Oh, hey Crystal. Are they done?"

"It seems so.", I was scared but I forced a smile through.

Nick tipped his head sideways and looked at me, "You look scared. Don't worry, we'll get through. I'm sure."

I had trouble deciding whether he knew it'd be okay, or he if was just reassuring me.

Nick stood and walked toward the cockpit. I watched him leave and slowly stood. I took a quick look around and followed.

As I stepped in to the cockpit it seemed oddly familiar. On a whim I sat down and began checking all the gauges and fuel. My finger flicked the plane off auto-pilot and I turned it to the left slightly, keeping it level with the horizon.

"This isn't so hard."

I glanced back to see everyone there staring at me in surprise. Slowly it dawned on me. I wasn't supposed to know this. For a few seconds I almost lost control, but I forced the large vehicle on to the right track.

"Crystal?" It was Ben.

"Yeah?"

"How are you doing this?"

"I'm not sure. Truthfully, I'm kinda scared. I've never done this before. What if I let it down too hard? What if I miss the landing? What if I misread the altimeter and lower the wing flaps too late?"

"Crystal, I don't even know what wing flaps are used for."

There was no denying it.

I could fly a plane.

Flashback 128: Washington & Merczel -Carl-

The branches bit against my cheek as I ran through the bramble behind my home, but in my anger I didn't notice. She shouldn't have done this. It had to have been her, it was no accident that the fridge fell on our Father. Not that I cared about my Father, but she wasn't supposed to do anything for me anymore. She promised.

Bursting in to a small clearing, I came face to face with the most probable cause of my Father’s death. The Fae, Merczel.

Her long ears perked up and she turned. Her body was the darkest black with a hint of purple and her wings were bigger than her body, and shined a deep blue. She moved with much less grace than you'd expect from a faerie, and she gave me a scrunched face as I approached.

"Smile you big meanie-head. You're ruining the mood.", she floated up in to the air and stared at me.

"I told you to stay out of our lives when we first moved here!" I admit, I wasn't very nice.

She laughed a little and flew over to sit on a leaf. Her lightweight body barely made the leaf move as she landed.

"It's not like you needed him around anyway, all he did was beat you."

"That's not the point! You killed someone! This is just like last time, when you gave our Father a gimp leg for a month; he couldn't work so he beat us for weeks! You just have to take it too far and now someone’s dead!"

She was very silent and didn't have a smile on her face.

"It was an accident. I was just supposed to hurt him."

"You weren't supposed to be there!"

To my surprise she looked at me and smiled, "I had no choice.", she giggled, "My newest charge told me a friend of his needed help. He told me to do something about it, so I did. Seeing that he's gone I think I did well."

"You did very, very well." The voice came from the bushes ahead and out of them stepped someone who I'd only seen a couple of times in school. Joshua Washington. Being two years younger than me, he was shorter. He had a mulatto complexion and looked to be average weight.

"Josh. You told her to kill my Dad?"

"No. I told her to stop your Dad from hurting you." Josh glanced at Fae, who flew over and landed on his shoulder. She leaned over and gave him a peck on his cheek.

"Josh, you don't know what she's capable of. She's dangerous. Just tell her to go away before she does worse."

Out of sight of Josh, The Fae Merczel looked at me and bared her tiny sharp teeth at me.

"I can control her. She won't do that again.", he glanced at the Fae and she quickly smiled and nodded, "I can control her."

"So, you know her first name then?"

Josh gave her a sheepish smile and then looked back at me, "Soon she'll tell me."

"You won't control her until you know her first name. Faes are controlled by their first name and nothing else. I'm willing to bet she killed him on purpose."

Josh scoffed at me, "Why can't you just be happy that you won't be beaten anymore?"

"Because she's killed someone.", I took a step toward him.

"She didn't mean to. She won't do that again."

"No you need to listen to me, her name is Mel-"

I woke up two hours later alone in the small clearing. On the ground was a small note in small writing that read:

"Don't worry. We won't be coming back here to bother you. We’re going to explore the world and see amazing things together! I'm sorry I had to knock you out, but I can't have him knowing my name; he's very important in my plans. I'm sure we'll run in to each other again. If you ever need my help, you know how to get it.

Sincerely, the Fae Merczel.

P.S. If you screw up my plans, I'll kill you dead."

I haven't seen them since.