

Other Books by Rashaad Bell

Alphabetical Genocide

Forgotten Future Anthology

Fledgling ~Vampire Manifesto Book Two

Copyright © 2012 Rashaad Bell

SMASHWORDS EDITION

THIS EBOOK IS LICENSED FOR YOUR PERSONAL ENJOYMENT ONLY. THIS EBOOK MAY NOT BE RE-SOLD OR GIVEN AWAY TO OTHER PEOPLE. IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO SHARE THIS BOOK WITH ANOTHER PERSON, PLEASE PURCHASE AN ADDITIONAL COPY FOR EACH RECIPIENT. IF YOU ARE READING THIS BOOK AND DID NOT PURCHASE IT, OR IT WAS PURCHASED FOR YOUR USE ONLY, THEN PLEASE RETURN TO SMASHWORDS.COM AND PURCHASE YOUR OWN COPY. THANK YOU FOR RESPECTING THE HARD WORK OF THIS AUTHOR...

"There is no such thing as a bad idea. Just poorly executed awesome ones."

~Damon Salvatore~

Dedicated to my Mom

Gail Leonard.

Thanks for always standing in my corner and opening up my imagination at a young age.
Chapter 1

Death becomes her...

I attempted to open my eyes, fighting through the pain. All I wanted to do was sleep, to just lay here where it's nice and warm, but someone keeps screaming at me. They sound so far away, it's difficult for me to make out the words, but the voice, the voice is so familiar. They sound so desperate, so sad. I wonder what's gotten them so upset? I hope everything is okay.

"MADISON!"

They sound so much closer now. Why is it so warm? It feels good; the way the heat feels against my body, but...

"It's been over ten minutes."

"Shut up!"

"I don't think she's coming back."

I hear people talking; I think they're talking about me.

"Wake up Madison, please, oh God, please wake up!"

Somebody is crying. They seem so sad. Please don't be sad. Come and play with me, come where it's warm...

"Did you see that?"

"Where the hell are the paramedics?"

"I think she just moved."

I struggled with everything I have to open my eyes. I want to see why everyone is so sad. I want to tell them everything is gonna be okay. Just come with me where it's warm and pretty.

"That's it Madison! Focus on my voice. Just focus. You can do it."

I tried to whisper, but it burned my throat to speak, everything hurt so badly and the warmth is going away. Please don't go away Mr. Warm! I like you. You make me feel all toasty on the inside.

Pain flared across my body, so much pain, such terrible misery. My back arched upwards and I screamed. My vision was returning slowly, however I wasn't able to make out details yet.

And everybody knows that

the Devil is in the details.

Everything was just a glob of bright and dark shadows. Someone was holding me, supporting my head in their arms. I could feel the ground underneath me.

It felt like concrete.

"Come on Madison, that's it. That's it. Thank you God! Thank you!"

Recognition came slowly. The voice was so familiar.

"Aiden?" I whispered.

"Yeah Madison, it's me. Just hang on, help is coming."

He was crying. I couldn't tell if it was because he was happy or if he was sad. Everything was so hazy. It hurt to think, to move, to breath, it just hurt all over.

"She's alive!" His head was turned when he spoke. Someone else is here, just behind him. I can't see them, but I can hear them running over.

"Are you sure?"

They're right next to me now; I can feel their hands on my neck. I recognize the voice. It's...it's...damn, why can't I remember?

"Of course I'm sure!" Aiden cried out.

I was starting to make out faces now. I could see my brothers face. He was still crying. It was so bright behind him. I think something must be on fire.

Wow. The stars look so beautiful tonight. Strange, but beautiful.

"It's been over fifteen minutes." The other person said. "Doesn't the brain shut down without oxygen after eight?"

"How the hell should I know?" Aiden replied.

"The only...the only person...brain dead...here...is...your mom." It still hurt to talk, but the pain was subsiding. Not just in my throat, but everywhere. It didn't hurt to breath anymore.

"Freaking Madison." The person laughed. "Everything is gonna be okay, I can hear the ambulance now.

"Terry...is that...is that you?" I didn't hurt anymore. The pain was totally gone. I was still having trouble thinking straight, the words seemed all jumbled up in my mind to the point that it was difficult to correlate them into working sentences.

"Yes Madison. Try not to speak. Save your strength." Terry was holding my hand. His fingers were soft.

"What...what happened?" I still couldn't remember how I got here; I didn't understand what was going on.

"There was an accident." Aiden said.

"An...accident?" Why can't I remember anything?

"There was a deer. Aiden swerved to miss it, but the car flipped." Explained Terry. "You didn't have your seatbelt on. You went through the front window."

"Oh no." I said weakly. "Well that doesn't sound like fun."

"No it doesn't." Aiden was caressing my hair. "You, well, you kinda died for a minute."

"More like fifteen minutes." Terry added.

"Dude, shut up." Aiden hadn't stopped crying yet. "But it's okay, everything is gonna be okay now."

"I...I think..." Terry was trying to speak, but he was stumbling over his words. He placed his hand against his temple. "I...I think I..."

"Hey, you okay?" Aiden asked. "You sure you didn't hurt yourself?"

The blood drained from his face suddenly. "I...I don't feel very well." Terry collapsed without warning, his body just collapsing to the ground.

"Terry!" Aiden scrambled over to him, checking his pulse. "No-no-no-no!" He started doing CPR, counting the chest compressions aloud, then pinching Terry's nose and breathing into his mouth.

I heard a roar behind me. When I turned to look, I saw what was left of my car; it was a mangled mass of wrecked steel and burning fiberglass. Through the flames, I could see the Ambulance pulling to a stop, the Paramedics hopping out of the back and running towards us.

"Stand aside Sir, now!" One of the Paramedics yelled as they immediately took over. There were two of them working on Terry, trying to revive him, but it just wasn't...

"He's not breathing! I've got no pulse!" The Paramedic screamed, ripping open Terry's t-shirt, his chest completely exposed.

The second Paramedic charged up the defibrillator. "CLEAR!"

Electric current poured into Terry, making his body twitch and jerk upwards. "Still no pulse."

"CLEAR!"

His body arched upwards again. The first Paramedic placed his ear next to Terry's mouth. "I've got nothing."

"Come on buddy, come on! Nobody dies tonight. Everybody goes home." They resumed CPR.

"CLEAR!"

This went on for a while. A lot longer than fifteen minutes. The paramedics just refused to give up on Terry. They refused to quit.

Until they finally did.

"This guy's gone." Said the second Paramedic softly. "I'm calling it. Time of death: April 6th, 6:20 am.

I just sat there, not fully understanding what had just happened. He seemed perfectly fine. He was okay. How is he...I'm the one who died, yet Terry, he's the one who is dead. How is that possible? How is that even close to fair? That should have been me. That was me and now he's gone, just like that. Right in front of my eyes.

I'm the one who died.

I couldn't fight back the tears any longer, I could feel them trickling down the side of my face. I had been holding them in check up until now, praying for a different outcome, but my prayers were in vain. I just couldn't wrap my head around it. They said I was dead for over fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes, yet I feel fine. Better then fine in fact. It was crazy to even contemplate it, especially after what just happened, but I feel... refreshed, physically rejuvenated, like I just had a really good workout. I don't feel like I was in an accident, let alone dead.

What makes me so special that I get to live and he gets to die?

Aiden was on the phone. He was talking to our parents, explaining to them what happened. The Paramedics were checking me out, making sure I was okay, but I hardly noticed. I wanted to tell them to leave me alone, that I felt fine, but I kept my thoughts to myself.

They were talking to my brother Aiden now, trying to get him off the phone, but by then I had zoned everything out. I just sat on the ground, next to the burning catastrophe that was my car, staring at Terry's body. I couldn't take my eyes off it.

Isn't somebody gonna put a white blanket or a sheet over him? Do they even do that in real life or is that just in the movies? His eyes were still open. I wanted to get up and close them myself, but I didn't. Terry was looking up at the stars. It was probably the last thing that he saw. At least they were beautiful tonight.

My name is Madison Amber Rose. This is the story of how I died.
Chapter 2

The Genesis of Actuality...

I can't keep up this pace for much longer. Sweat was pouring down the side of my face, trickling into my eyes, blinding my vision somewhat, but not to the point of me having to slow down. If I slowed down, I was dead. I stumbled, yet caught hold of my stride before slamming into the underbrush. I wouldn't let him beat me that easily.

I didn't want to die this night. I pushed myself harder, fighting through the maddening brushwood around me. The forest was claustrophobic. Suffocating me with its leaves and branches as I ran as fast as my legs could permit.

He dropped to the ground directly in front of me, his burnt sienna, Vampire eyes incandescent in the wooden cove. He was wild, blood crazed and I could tell far beyond reason. Instinctively I slowed to a stop, scanning my surroundings, searching desperately for an option, for a Plan B.

"Going somewhere?" The Vampire asked.

I hid one hand behind me then began to chant. Reciting words I had only just learned maybe an hour or less before. Thunder shook the sky; so loud it was as if an airplane had crashed just a mile away.

"You made me run." The Vampire exclaimed in disgust. "And into the woods no less."

I continued the chant, oblivious to the words the Vampire spoke, my eyes slightly averted from his gaze. To stare into the eyes of a Vampire is to lose yourself, to become a slave to his will. I can't let that happen!

It was starting to rain, my torn white dress sticking to my flesh with every raindrop. I just needed a little bit more time. I continued the chant as softly and quickly as I could, still taking slow steps backwards, the forest floor cutting into my already bare feet.

"I really hate this place you know." The Vampire continued abstractly, more to himself then to me. He knew there was nowhere left for me to go. The hunt was over. The prey was within his grasp.

"I burned it all down once." He motioned with his hands in this overtly grand gesture to the landscape around us. "All of this. Three hundred years ago. It was sacred then. The Native Americans said their Spirit God dwelt here within the leaves, the bushes, the animals, in every singular blade of grass."

The Vampire laughed sadistically. "So I reduced this place to ash. To a smoldering cinder, just to prove a point." Guess what point I'm going to prove here tonight?"

That's it. Keep him talking just a little bit longer.

I was almost done, the finale verse of my incantation only moments away. I took another tentative step backwards and found to my dismay that I was unable to move any further. My back pressed up against a monolithic, oak tree behind me.

"What is that you're mumbling, witch?" The Vampire stopped short. "Is that Latin?"

"Actually..." I answered, a smile slowing etching its way across my parched lips. "It's Sumerian." The evening sky thundered with such force that the ground actually shook, the clouds swirling in opaque fury just above my head.

A lightning bolt flung itself from the sky, striking the tree I was up against, burrowing through the ancient oak like so much paper mâché, slamming into the Vampires chest, enveloping his body in crackling electricity.

The Vampire was propelled backwards, the force so intense that when he struck one of the massive oaks, the tree shattered on impact.

I wanted to run, to continue my plight, but that option was gone now. The spell had taken too much out of me. Blood began trickling from my nose and ears. I'd never cast a spell before and this one in particular wasn't exactly supposed to be recited by a novice, let alone by me.

Yet as much as I wanted to collapse to the ground beneath me, I pressed forward, each step a systematically calculated thought, pressing myself to move despite the pain that was overwhelming my body. It wasn't over. Not by a long shot.

The Vampire's body lay charred and lifeless, a smoldering rag doll of a thing, yet I knew better than to be deceived by that ruse, tricked into thinking these things could die so easily. But maybe, just maybe...

The body twitched, fingers flexing then retracting into a fist. I tried to move faster, to persuade my body that the agony and exhaustion that I felt didn't exist, yet no matter how much I struggled, it wasn't going to be enough.

The Vampire was on me by then, his bony fingers at my throat, hoisting me up in the air with one hand, my bloodied feet dangling helpless. I could see his scorched body healing before my eyes, the flesh regenerating itself, weaving together in such a fashion that it made Vampires particularly problematic to kill.

"Now. That. Wasn't. Very. Nice." The burnt flesh around his mouth literally reconstructed his lips as he spoke. "No, not very nice at all."

He drew me in closer, so that we were almost face to face, his putrid breath hot against my skin. "Remember that thing I was rambling on about? You know, before you so rudely drove a fucking lightning bolt through my chest?"

The Vampire hadn't seen it, he was too busy with bravado. All paper tigers and wolf tickets to me. He hadn't been told about it either; otherwise this entire altercation would have gone down a lot different. He would have killed me be now. His mistake, my gain.

"You talk too much." I whispered, driving the Blade of Osiris, which I had kept concealed behind my back, into his chest. The Vampire's eyes went dull and then hazed over, becoming pools of pitch-black emptiness.

The Vampire staggered back, releasing his grip on my throat as I slipped down to the damp earth, the Blade of Osiris still clutched in my hand, the obsidian blade drenched in blood. The reason they called it Osiris was that it was rumored to have the ability to kill anything.

I watched as he toppled to the ground. He did not get back up. From behind came an assortment of screams and wails, terrifyingly horrific in nature. I spun around, the balls of my feet digging deep into the moist terrain as I mentally prepared for anything. The rain was coming down hard, maddeningly so, to the point that it was virtually impossible to see.

However, I could see them. Vampires. Nine in total, yet I knew more were on their way; it was only a matter of time. The few that were closest began to encircle around me, their soulless eyes like death.

"Well what are you waiting for?" I challenged. "It's not like I got all fucking night!"

The alarm went off, a slow buzzing sound from something straight out of the 1950's. It was the same stupid dream. Every night for a month, it's always been the same. Me, some weird looking knife and a bunch of cocky Vampires until I go all Buffy on their ass.

The clock read 8:00 am. I so did not want to get out of bed right now. My covers were all toasty warm from body heat, not to mention it was freezing in this house, like Antarctic cold for some ridiculous reason. It's been like this ever since we moved to Florida last year after the car accident. The air conditioner seems to be on full blast, all day, every day. I exhaled sharply and could swear I saw a white puff.

"Oh come on!" I moaned.

It was Monday. I hate Mondays. I forced myself to crawl out of bed, grabbing my pink, Hello Kitty bathrobe grandma sent me for Christmas last year, the one with the chocolate ice cream stains on it from last night.

Mmmm...chocolate.

My room was in a state of chaos. It was as if my entire wardroom was thrown haphazard like across the carpet. I was meaning to clean it last night, but got distracted. Game of Thrones and Ben and Jerry's. When it comes to cleaning, it doesn't take much for me to get distracted. I guess I can do it after school today, I mean, it's not like this mess was going anywhere.

I shuffled out my bedroom. Stifling a yawn, I stopped at the room next to me, banging on the door. "Aiden it's me." I announced before cracking the door softly, peering inside. "It's time to get up bro."

Aiden came awake with a start, drool crusted up on the side of his face. "Huh, what?" He stuttered. "Oh, uh, hey sis."

"You're gonna be late for school again, Aiden. You know it takes you like, seven years just to take a shower." The covers beside him started to move, a small, blonde mass of hair peeked her head up from underneath them.

"Morning Madison." She exclaimed sleepily, drooping one around across my brothers bare chest.

"And hello to you to Abigail." I rolled my eyes. Why is she even here? Mom is gonna have a freaking aneurysm if she finds the both of them together. "You know Aiden; I'm not covering for the two of you again. I got grounded for a month the last time Mom almost found the two of you hooking up."

"Please!" Aiden countered. "I said distract Ma for a sec. One second. Not go and open the front door and let her prize, stupid little dog run out the house and almost get run over."

"I'm just saying." I responded.

"Okay, okay." Aiden conceded. "Point taken. Besides everything's cool. Mom, Pop, they rushed outta here last night around two in the a.m., said they were gonna be gone a couple of days."

"What for?" I asked.

"I don't know? Something about Cousin Frankie. I think he's sick or something, he's in the hospital, but yeah, they aren't gonna be back till next Wednesday, Thursday at the latest."

"Is he gonna be okay?" Abigail asked, propping her arm up on Aiden's shoulder. I liked Abby. She was cool. My best friend honestly, well my best friend here in Florida, at least. I'm not sure I'm at all comfortable with her sleeping with my lil brother though.

"Yeah, is he gonna be okay?" I asked.

"I dunno know." Aiden replied. "They got a phone call, freaked out and left."

"Oh, that's sad. I've met Frankie before, he was nice. Bought me a pack of Newports once." Abigail added.

"Yup, that's Frankie alright. Always there to contribute to the delinquency of a minor." I said. "What were you doing up at two in the morning for anyway?"

Aiden shrugged. "Playing Little Big Planet."

Abigail giggled. "Omg, you are such a dork."

"Whatever, you love it. Pop left me in charge by the way."

I looked at him skeptically. "I doubt it."

"I'm being serious Madison. He said I was the head of the household until he got back."

"Whatever. You're gonna be late for school Mr. President." Like I would EVER do anything Aiden told me to do.

"I'm not going to school today." He announced.

"We're not going to school today." Interjected Abigail.

"Correction. We're not going to school today."

These two can be exceptionally difficult at times.

"You? You're skipping school? Captain America, say no to drugs, only got a B+ last semester and cried about it, literally, isn't going to class? You hear that?"

"Hear what fool?" Asked Aiden.

"That noise." I continued. "Must be the sound of the last trumpet blowing."

"If your opinion meant anything it would be published." He replied.

"She does do a blog." Abigail corrected.

"I do do a blog." I repeated

"Haha, you said dodo!"

Sigh...my brother can be such a juvenile.

Abby mushed him in the side of his head with her hand. "Don't be gross, Aiden."

"Smell my morning breath!" He bellowed, breathing harshly in Abigail's face without warning. "Smell it!"

Abigail scrunched up her expression, pinching her nose. "Eww, H1N1!"

"Right. Whatever. I'm getting ready for school." I went to close the door.

"No, wait Madison." Abigail called out. "Come with us."

"Yeah, she's right; Pop gave me the keys to the car. We're rolling out in T-minus not sure and counting, but it'll be soon."

"Dad? Dad gave you the keys to the Rolling Stone?" That's what he always called the cherry red '76 Mustang that he's had since, well, like...1976 I think. It was his baby. More important than football. More important than Presidential elections. "You're joking right? He wouldn't give you the keys to escape the zombie apocalypse."

"I told you Madison, when they got the call, they just freaked. Mom packed them some clothes and they just split. Just like that. Pop tossed me the keys, then said: Be back Wednesday, maybe Thursday. You're in charge. You ding it, you die. Then they were gone."

"What about school Aiden?"

"What about school Madison? What are you gonna learn there today that you can't learn there tomorrow? I'm trying to go to Flagler beach. Catch some waves, some sun..."

"I've got a new bathing suit!" Abigail added, just a touch to cheerful for me. Of course she has a new bathing suit; she's grown up here in Palm Coast, Florida all her life. Her body was made for the beach; it was perfectly tanned and sculpted.

"I don't know." I said. "I've got AP English today."

"What is that on the front of your bathrobe?" Abigail inquired, squinting her eyes, trying to get a clear picture. "Is that...chocolate?"

"It's not just chocolate, it's Ben and Jerry's chocolate." I corrected.

"God Madison, you're worse than my Grandmother." Abigail stated. "Kinda smell like her to."

"It's the Icy Hot." Aiden whispered. "She puts it on before bed."

"I told you, I only do that when I do yoga so I'm not sore the next day." I screamed

"I think it has something to do with the drugs personally." He continued. "Rave thing."

"Shut it." I was in no mood for school today. I was tired. Like, really tired. Even though I slept the whole night, I wasn't rested. A day at the beach, yeah, that would be awesomely copasetic right about now.

"So, are you rolling out with us or what?" Aiden asked.

"Yeah, I'm going."

"Sweet! See, I told you she would come!" Abigail was ecstatic, bouncing up and down on the bed.

I rolled my eyes.

"I'm gonna get dressed. Let me know when you're ready." I closed Aiden's door, not waiting for a response. Apparently, Abigail forgot she was naked underneath the blanket during her little bouncy fit. Just a little bit too much of her then I originally planned to see this early in the morning.

I went downstairs, planning to let our dog Caprica Six out for a piss run in the backyard, but he wasn't there. Neither was his bowl. Wow, they took the dog with them? Mom must really be stressed then. That dog does not leave this house. Ever. Other than the backyard and the one time I opened the front door and he scampered outside, I doubt if he's even smelled air from another locale.

The remote was on the counter and I pressed the power button. Nothing happened. Great, must be the wrong one. I grabbed the one next to it. Power button. Nothing. Why does this always happen to me? Always! I grabbed a third remote. Nadda. I didn't even know what the fourth one did.

"Aiden!" I screamed out from the bottom of the stairs. "The TV won't turn on!"

"You trying to watch, a Blu-ray or cable!" He yelled back. "Or the DVR?"

"I wanna listen to music!"

"From a CD, or one of them cable stations that plays music or satellite radio?"

"Umm...from my IPod!" I'm way too lazy to walk back up the stairs, but all this yelling is simply ridiculous.

"I don't know fool! You've got a better chance blowing up the Deathstar then figuring out that madness of an entertainment system." He replied.

"What's a Deathstar?" I yelled. "And why would I need to blow one up?"

"Yoda would be very disappointed with this conversation." Aiden responded.

"Who is that?" I asked

"What?"

"Yoda, who is that?" I repeated. "Is he that Latino kid from home room, you know the really cute one?"

"Yeah, I'm not dealing with you right now, so use some headphones and leave me alone."

"Whatever jerk face!" I screamed.

"What?"

"Ugh...just forget it!" Why do men deem it necessary to have a gazillion remotes sitting in some lame wicker basket? Just man up, spend the money and get a nice universal remote control. Why do I need to figure out the Da Vinci Code just to listen to some music around here?

I plopped down in Moms writing chair in front of the computer. Now this I know how to use. With a few clicks, I had Pandora pulled up and music blasting through the computer speakers. Of course our computer speakers couldn't just be regular speakers, oh no. That would be entirely too normal.

Dad needs something powered by Unicorn tears or some other madness so he can hear Sports Center like he was sitting in the station with them, right next to the guy who films it.

I cranked up the volume. Some song by Hearing Damage. I love that group. I surfed the net for a bit, read some emails, scanned over some random twitter post, something about tiger blood, checked the Facebook, then headed towards the downstairs bathroom.

I stared at myself long and hard in the mirror. Yes, Abigail was gorgeous, but she was just your typical, beach blonde bombshell. My skin was tan, yet nowhere near as olive as hers. My hair was full and long, stopping around the middle of my back or so. It was dark brown to the point where it almost appeared as if I had black highlights.

Boys had always told me I was cute. I didn't believe them when I was younger, but now I could see it. My eyes were crazy; they kinda changed colors when they wanted. One day they would be violet with flecks of gray and blue. Sometimes they would just be azure. It didn't matter though, once I caught you in my gaze, you were mine if I wanted you.

Hmm...

I paused momentarily. That ice cream stain on my bathrobe kinda looks like Jesus. I could probably sell this thing on E-bay. I wonder if I could go to hell for that?

I stripped down and climbed in the shower, letting the water wash away everything that was troubling me. I tried to focus on the dream, yet the intricacies were already fading fast. I could barely remember all the details, I rarely could. I knew there was more to it, it was longer then it appeared, yet I could only recall the part with the lightning and the knife. The blade of something or whatever.

The water felt good against my body, offsetting the subzero temperature of our house. Mental note: check the thermostat. I didn't spend long in the shower. I wasn't like Aiden. You watch the entire Lord of the Rings trilogy and he would still be in here, doing only God knows what. It's not as if we even got hot water like that to begin with, but he doesn't care.

I grabbed a towel, wrapped it around my body and brushed my teeth. Something smelled good. Abigail must be up then, because my brother can burn corn flakes. I exited the bathroom and found Abigail in the kitchen, standing at the stove wearing one of my brothers t-shirts. The one with the picture of James Dean on the front.

"Hey Madison." Greeted Abigail. "I'm making ham and cheese omelets. You want one?" Abby was an excellent cook. Her mother owns a small little Italian restaurant over by Home Depot and Abigail cooks there sometimes on the weekends.

"Yeah, sure." I said, taking a seat at the counter. As if I was going to turn down some home cooked food. "What time did you get here?"

"Around six thirty." Abigail said, placing a plate of the most delicious, picture perfect omelet down in front of me. "I was gonna go to the gym this morning before school, do some palates when Aiden called. I think he was up all night playing that stupid video game."

"Yeah, he just got it last week." I said between mouthfuls. "He's trying to create the most awesome level ever created in the history of awesome created levels."

"I know!" Abigail pulled up a chair and took a seat in front of me. "He's so cute. He asked me to be his girlfriend this morning. After he made me play test that God awful level of his of course, but we're official now!"

Aiden and Abigail had been pretty much been dating ever since we first moved here earlier this year. In fact, I kinda think she was the first person we met at Palm Coast High. I'm pretty sure she was the one to give us the initial tour of the place on our first day. She and I have been cool ever since.

"Finally!" I announced with relief. "He's only been talking my ear off about it for the last three weeks."

"Really?" Abigail leaned forward, obviously intrigued. "What all did he say about me? Was it good? Bad? Tell me everything!"

I was about to spill when Aiden came clamoring down the steps wearing a pair of flip-flops, some plaid shorts and an Abercrombie and Fitch t-shirt. He had this Beetles haircut thing going on. Ever since their music was released on iTunes, he's been blasting them ever since.

"What are you two gabbing about?" He asked, grabbing my fork and scooping a mouthful from my plate. I smacked his hand away, snatching my utensil back.

"Just girl stuff baby." Abigail leaned over the counter and kissed him on the check.

I ate two more mouthfuls and then pushed away from the table. "I gotta get dressed."

"Yeah, you do." Aiden sarcastically agreed. "We should be ready to leave in fifteen."

"Okay." I headed upstairs and began digging through the piles of clothes on my chair. I had just gone shopping. I bought some stuff for summer and I eventually found the outfit I was looking for. Nothing extravagant of course. My black bikini, some low cut jean shorts and a black tank top. I grabbed my shades, a Zelda beach towel and flip-flops. Apparently, everyone here in Florida wears flip-flops. Back in Baltimore, where we're from, not so much.

I flew down the stairs, interrupting a massive kissing session between Aiden and Abigail. "I would say get a room, but then we would never leave." I remarked.

"We need to find Madison a boy toy." Abigail announced abruptly, her arms wrapped around my brothers waist. She had on just a bikini top, a white tennis skirt and some white and black Chuck Tailors that were obviously my brothers. I found it slightly disgusting that they wore the same size shoe.

"Negative Ghost Rider." Aiden answered. "My lil sis does not need a boy toy."

I disagreed. "Does too, lil bro!"

"How is it you both call each other lil, I don't get it?" Abigail asked.

"Because when he says it, he refers to age, when I say it, it refers to mental maturity."

"And yet, I'm in charge." Aiden dangled the keys in front of me.

I snatched them out his hand. "And yet, I'm driving."

Abigail couldn't contain her laughter, grabbing my hand as we headed out the door.

"I call bullshit!" Aiden yelled out, trailing after us.

"And I call shotgun." Abigail added.

"Oh, come on!" Whined Aiden.

I unlocked the car door and slid inside, the soft leather hot against my skin. Within seconds I had the air blasting and the top down, peeling out the driveway, making our way out the B-Section, which was what neighborhoods were called here in Palm Coast. A-Section, B-Section, etcetera, with all the corresponding street names beginning with the name of your Section. We lived on Bridgehaven Street.

Abigail connected her iPod to the stereo, Death Cab for Cuties blasting through the speakers. Dad had spent his entire life rebuilding the Rolling Stone. It was his first and only car, but he took good care of it and poured insane amounts of cash into it to keep it running smoothly.

"Did you bring the cooler?" Abby asked, turning a bit so she could see Aiden who was stretched out comfortably in the back seat. He was playing some game on his iPad.

"Yeah, it's in the trunk." He said, not bothering to glance up.

"Are you sure Aiden, because you didn't walk out the house with it?"

"I put it in there while you were getting dressed, before you started cooking."

"And the towels?"

"Yup."

"What about the Margaritas?"

"Yes, mother!" He said mockingly. "Do you wanna check my social security number as well?"

"I already know your social security number Aiden. Do you?"

I laughed, pressing down on the gas pedal, listening to the engine rev up as we excelled towards our destination. Someone's phone rang.

Ooh me so horny, ooh-ooh, me so horny!

Okay, so Aiden's phone rang.

"Yo...what? Hold on." Aiden leaned forward. "Turn that down, I can't hear."

Abigail decreased the stereo volume.

"Yeah, what's up?" Aiden continued with his phone call. "Nah, nah, nah, I'm on my way to the beach. Yeah, yeah, Flagler. Nah, it's me, Abigail and Madison. What? Dude that's my sister, don't make me punch you in the face. Hold on." Aiden leaned forward so he was closer to us. "Madison, Mitchell wants to know if he can have your phone number?"

Abigail gave me one of the craziest looks of disgust ever. "Tell him he can't, but his momma can."

Aiden laughed. "Haha, nice!" He went back to his cell. "That's a no go bro. When? Hold on." Aiden leaned forward again to talk to us. "Mitchell said that The Dave's are having a bonfire tonight. You two wanna slide through?"

The Dave's. Dave Berger and David Anderson, these two guys that graduated last year and became roommates. Found a place down on the beach. Best bonfires ever.

"Of course."

"Me too." Agreed Abigail.

"Cool." Aiden leaned back in his seat. "Yeah, we're coming Mitchell. Okay. What? Dude, what's up with the twenty questions? Nah, I'm putting you on speaker. Hahaha. Okay. Peace." Aiden hung up.

"What was that?" I asked.

"Nothing. Mitchell wants us to bring some green to smoke if we can." Aiden replied.

"I don't know where to get any weed at."

"It's fine. I know a place." Abigail stated.

"Good." I announced, pulling into a parking spot. "Today is gonna be awe-some!"
Chapter 3

Chance meeting...

Everyone climbed out, Aiden making a beeline towards the trunk, grabbing the cooler and blankets. Even though it was only around ten in the morning, on a Monday, the beach was filled with people. It had to be around ninety-seven degrees out and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. It was such a beautiful sight and it was one of the main reasons why our unexpected move here to Palm Coast was bearable.

"I bet the water is feels good." Aiden declared as we made our way down these rickety wooden steps that led surfside. It took us a little while to find a spot, apparently, we weren't the only ones to have the idea to skip whatever school or job we had and come down to Flagler beach, but it wasn't long before Aiden was spreading out this humongous blanket and propping up lawn chairs for us.

I sprawled out on the blanket, my back against the downy material and the sun across my face. It was so nice to be out. Abigail took up the spot next to me, while Aiden plopped down in his X-Men lawn chair.

Abby held up her hand, snapping her fingers. "Margarita please."

Aiden reached in the cooler and handed her an eight-ounce Sprite bottle filled with Margarita mix instead of soda. "You want one to Madison?"

"Yup." Aiden tossed me a Sprite bottle.

"You ladies gonna be okay for a few?" He asked.

Abigail propped herself up to look at him. "Why? Where you disappearing off to baby?"

"I wanna hit up the comic book store for a bit. I wanna get that Sinestro War trade."

I was confused. "What's a Sinestro War?"

"Sinestro is the renegade Green Lantern who started his own Corp powered by a Yellow Power Ring which is fueled by peoples fear." Abigail explained.

That answer seemed to roll off her tongue just a little too easy. I stared at her. "Abby, how in the hell do you even know that?"

"Oh, you're brother has schooled me on all things comic book."

"You're kidding right? You don't even like to read." I said.

"Honestly it's pretty good, you should check it out." Abigail replied.

"I'll pass. Wait...can't you just download that to your iPad? I thought they like, had an app for that?"

"Honey, your brother is against comic book digital downloads." Abigail laughed. "He's an old school, hard core fanboy."

Aiden stood up. "I need to feel it in my hands. Smell them. Turn the physical pages. I can't do that with a download."

"You're such a nerd." Abigail announced, getting up as well.

"You coming with?" He questioned.

"Nope." Abigail said. "If you're running to the comic shop right now, I'm gonna go buy us a dub of green for tonight. You gonna be okay here alone for a minute Madison?"

"Yeah, I'm cool. I've got sun, margaritas and half naked boys to stare at. I'll be just fine."

"Okay, hun. We should be back in what?" Abigail glanced at Aiden.

"Twenty, twenty-five minutes." He responded.

Abigail made a face. "We should be back in about ten, fifteen minutes."

"Abby!"

"Look I'm not spending all day in that stupid comic book store Aiden, all they do is stare at my boobs the entire time. It's like they've never seen a pair in real life before. Plus, that wasn't the reason why I came to the beach today."

The two of them wondered off, arguing as they disappeared into the multitude of people on the boardwalk. I watched them leave and smiled inwardly. They were so cute together. They complemented the other persons strengths and weaknesses. I only wish I could find someone like that. Someone that could identify with me without the need for a façade.

I had to admit to myself how lonely I was. Not that I needed some boy to complete me, yet it would be nice to have someone that understood where I was coming from. To understand my needs, my goals. Someone to share those intimate moments people have. Not to mention I was tired of playing the third wheel between Aiden and Abigail. Not that they would ever consciously admit that, because they wouldn't. Yet they don't go anywhere without me tagging along with them and I'm just selfish enough to come, instead of doing the right thing and letting them have their alone time.

I closed my eyes and just enjoyed the sun against my chest. I should have put sunscreen on but I was too lazy to get up. I was content to just sit here and contemplate on if I was actually going to get into the water this time. I've lived in Palm Coast for a little over a three years, been to the beach multiple times and haven't once let ocean water touch my body.

My deep seething fear of being eaten alive by a shark keeps me sand bound.

A shadow fell over me and I cursed under my breath. Florida was notorious for sudden weather changes, where it goes from nice and sunny, to damp and cold. All I wanted was a tan!

"Excuse me."

I opened my eyes and found this guy standing there. "Yes, excuse you. You're blocking my sun."

"Oh, I'm sorry." He apologized, stepping out of the way, moving to the left a little. Now that the sun wasn't to his back, I was able to see him better.

He was gorgeous. Seventeen, maybe eighteen, sandy brown hair cut somewhat short. He had strong features, chiseled, very hawk like, with green eyes that almost seemed to sparkle. I had to sit up and remove my sunglasses just so I could look at him unhindered.

I wanted him.

He extended out his hand. "Hello, my name is Ethan Blackwood."

"Um...Hi, I'm Madison. Madison Amber Rose." I reached out to shake his hand. His skin extremely cool and soft to the touch.

"Nice to meet you Madison." Ethan exclaimed. "Is it okay if I sit with you for a minute?"

"Yeah, sure."

Ethan Blackwood sat down in the sand, not on the blanket, keeping a modest distance between us. "Madison Amber Rose. That's a beautiful name."

The way he looked at me was so penetrating, like he was staring directly through me at my inner soul underneath. I wanted to glance away suddenly; it was difficult for me to maintain eye contact with him.

"Thank you Ethan." God, I hope I'm not blushing right now.

"I don't..." He paused briefly. "...I don't normally approach random girls like this."

"I'm sure you don't." I lied.

"But when I saw you, I knew I had to stop and say, I don't know, something."

Thank you God. Thank you God. Thank you God.

"Really?" I smiled. "Well what did you want to say Mr. Ethan Blackwood?"

He smiled playfully. "I don't know. I hadn't really planned that far ahead."

We both laughed at his comment. I brushed my hair over my right ear. Not that it was in my way, but rather, that's just what I do when I'm nervous.

"So are you from here?" I wanted to know everything about him. Everything! I was just so drawn to his presence. I'd never felt this way about a person I just met before.

"No, not really. I moved here not that long ago." Ethan was sitting Indian style in the sand. It looked extremely painful, but he seemed comfortable enough.

"Nobody from Florida is really from Florida, right? Did you live nearby?"

He titled his head somewhat. His skin seemed flawless, perfectly smooth. Like something out of a magazine, like his features were almost airbrushed to perfection.

"Somewhere, far from here." Was Ethan's answer.

"Really? Far from here, huh? Cryptic much?" The mystery man with delicate features. Mom always warned me about guys like this.

"At times." He said.

"Okay."

"I'm sorry, I'm...I'm really not used to, personal interaction."

"Uh huh." I wasn't exactly sure how to respond to that.

"With girls, I mean." Ethan Blackwood added quickly.

"Oh. So you're gay then?" Awesome Madison. Out of all the guys on the beach, you have to fall for the gay one!

"No, I'm not gay, just shy. I usually keep to myself. But when I saw you, I knew I needed to know you."

"Who's the noob?" Aiden's voice cut through the atmosphere like a knife.

I glanced up just in time to see Abigail grab another margarita out the cooler while Aiden, carrying the hugest brown paper bag full of comics ever, came to rest in is X-chair.

"Aiden, Abigail, this is my new friend, Ethan Blackwood." I introduced him with a little bit more enthusiasm then I should have.

"Sup dude." Said Aiden.

"Oh, he's really cute!" Flirted Abigail.

"Shut up and sit down." Aiden responded.

Ethan gave them a slight nod of recognition. "It's a pleasure to meet the both of you." He turned his attention back towards me. "I'm not intruding am I?"

Before I could even reply, Abigail chimed in. "Of course not, Ethan. We were just going for a swim anyway. Aren't we Aiden?"

"We were?" Asked Aiden. "I thought you said..."

Abigail squinted her eyes fiercely at him.

"Uh, yeah." Aiden looked at me then Ethan. "Swimming. Yay?"

Abigail stood, waiting for Aiden to follow.

"Abby, were you able to get that, uh, Green Lantern you were going to get?" I asked.

"Oh did I!" Laughed Abigail. "Forty issues worth instead of twenty."

"What?" Aiden seemed lost. "When did you buy Green Lantern comics? I wanna see! What issues did you get?"

"Aiden, shut up and come on." Abigail grabbed his hand and started pulling him towards the ocean.

"Watch my comics; make sure they don't get wet!" He yelled back to me as Abby dragged him away.

Neither Ethan nor I spoke for a moment, simply staring into each other's eyes. I'd never seen eyes like his before. Even in the sunlight, they seem to radiate somewhat, giving off a sparkle all of their own.

"You'll never win." I announced.

"Excuse me?"

"You haven't blinked once." I leaned closer to him. "I never blink. It's a skill set I possess."

"I didn't know we were playing a game."

"You didn't know? Life itself is a game." I declared. "It's a time challenge and once you're born, you're already down to your last man."

Ethan came closer, yet still kept a respectable distance. "Then I've got a secret."

"Really?" I was intrigued. "And what would that be?"

"I've got the cheat code." Ethan announced.

"The cheat code to what?"

"Unlimited continues." He divulged.

"Well what fun would that be?" I countered. "What would be the point?"

"To see how it all ends." Stated Ethan.

"Life isn't a movie. We weren't meant to see the end credits. Only the good parts, some of the bad and a little of the in-between, but never the whole thing."

"For you maybe." He conceded. "But I wanna see it all."

"Never take life too seriously, Ethan. Nobody gets out alive anyways."

"You wanna take a walk with me, Madison Amber Rose?"

"Why, I'd love to Ethan Blackwood."

He stood to his feet rather quickly, faster than I could have anticipated, not from that crazy, yoga, Indian style he was resting in, yet he was already up and on his feet, hand outstretched to help me.

When our fingers touched, it was like electricity, a tingling sensation across my entire physique. It felt as if my whole body was alive, like I was alive.

He was tall. Almost six feet and he towered over me, but in a good way. Ethan went to release my hand, but I didn't let go, interlocking our fingers instead. He my think he has unlimited continues, but the rest of us don't. The rest of us didn't have time to wait for the world, the rest of the world needed to wait for us.

Abigail was splashing Aiden in the face with water until, from what I can tell, Aiden got pissed, picked her up over his head and dunked her. Then he started to dance like the zombies from the Michael Jackson Thriller video.

I can't take them anywhere!

"Hey!" I yelled. Neither of them noticed. "Aiden!"

Is that the moonwalk he's doing now?

"Don't worry I got it." Ethan laughed. "AIDEN!"

I jumped, slightly startled at how loud he could yell. Aiden looked over in our direction and Ethan flagged him over.

Abigail hopped on Aiden's back as he jogged over to us while she smacked him continuously on his rear. "What's up?" He struggled, clearly out of breath.

"I'm gonna talk a walk with Ethan here, just wanted to let you know."

Abigail climbed down off Aiden's back and gave Ethan a once over, examining him from head to toe.

"Only if that's okay?" Ethan added in, sensing her immediate displeasure.

Abby wasn't buying it. "Walk? Walk where?"

Ethan looked at me. I looked at him. "Uh...that way?" He said, pointing down the beach.

She gave him the once over again. "And what's down there that isn't up here?"

"Ice cream?" I chimed in, trying to win her over to the idea.

"Yes. Right." Ethan hurriedly agreed. "Double chocolate scoop ice cream."

"Really?" I exclaimed happily. "I didn't know that."

Abigail gave me the evil eye.

"You're not helping." Ethan whispered.

"Oops. My bad."

"Look here Mr., what's your name again?" Abigail demanded.

"Ethan."

"Uh, last name?" Abigail can be very bulletin point at times.

"Blackwood. Ma'am."

"Don't be a smart ass! I.D.? License? Let's see it!"

"Uh..." Ethan began patting down the pockets of his cargo shorts, checking for his wallet.

Abigail was snapping her fingers incessantly. "Come on, let's go, let's go!"

Ethan found his wallet in one of the many side cargo pockets he had. He pulled out his license so she could see it.

Abigail held out her hand as Aiden produced a small, clear plastic box shaped camera from his pocket, slamming it down in Abigail's open palm.

"Waterproof!" She exclaimed, before snapping a picture of Ethan's I.D. card with the camera. "Look here, Mr. Ethan Blackwood. If anything happens to my girl, I will hunt you down and murder you in your sleep. Do you understand me?

"Uh, yes Ma'am."

I think he might be slightly scared of her.

"Dude, she is freakishly strong." Added Aiden.

"I am freakishly strong and I will exercise that strength on your face. Comprende?"

"Understood." Ethan agreed hastily.

I simply shook my head. "Are you done?"

"Yes. You may go."

I grinned. "I love you."

"And I love you too. Have fun!"

I squeezed Ethan's hand then pushed him slightly to get him going before Abigail started up again. There was a reason she was my best friend. She would never let anything happen to me if she could help it.

We walked a little bit before either one of us spoke. "Is she still staring at us?" Asked Ethan.

I shot a glance over my shoulder and started laughing. "Yes."

"That woman frightens me." He admitted.

"Shut up Ethan." I shoved him playfully. "You have to excuse my friends. They can be a little...overzealous at times."

"You know, she only has your best interest at heart." He added.

"Yeah, I know. That's why we're best friends." I liked being close to him. Not in a sexual way or anything like that, but rather, I just seemed at ease around him. Comfortable. That's the best way I could describe it.

"So how old are you?" He asked.

"Seventeen. Same as my brother. He's only older than me by a couple of minutes."

"Twins? Fraternal?"

I squeezed my boobs. "Well we sure aren't identical."

"No, no. It's just that, I didn't notice. I couldn't tell." Corrected Ethan.

"It's okay. Most people can't." I grabbed his hand again. I love the way his skin felt. Like chilled silk.

"So tell me something about yourself." I wanted to know everything about him. Every detail. It was something more than just his beauty that attracted me to him. Although, I don't think I've ever met someone as beautiful as him.

"Oh God!" I exclaimed suddenly. "Hide me!"

I pulled him close, turning his body somewhat as I did, my arms wrapped around his waist, my face pressed up against his chest.

"Wait a minute, what's going on?" Ethan was more than a little dumbfounded.

It was hard to concentrate being this close to him. He smelled like honeysuckle and tangerines. His body was hard like stone, like he spent every working hour in the gym, yet he wasn't overly muscle bound, just profoundly chiseled, like someone had breathed life into a Michelangelo statue.

"Just hide me." I whispered.

Ethan tentatively placed his arms around me and we faded into the crowd, just another couple in a lovers embrace.

"Not that I'm complaining." He began, hugging me a little tighter than I expected. "But what's going on?"

"Over there." I whispered.

"Over where?" Ethan went to turn.

"No, no, don't look!"

He froze where he was. "Uh...okay?"

I couldn't help but giggle. "It's Mr. Woodrow."

"Sure, I'll bite." He said. "Who's Mr. Woodrow?"

"Oh, just my Assistant Principle, who theoretically, is supposed to be on medical leave for fracturing his foot during last week's Pep Rally, but is actually over there...I said don't look!"

"Sorry."

"That's him alright." I continued. "Eating a corn dog with some girl who is so obviously not his wife."

Ethan just burst out in man chuckles. "Well, he is wearing a cast."

"Really?" I was absolutely skeptical of that statement.

"Yes, I can unmistakably see it from here." Ethan had begun to play with the tips of my hair, twirling them between his fingers. "Someone's drawn a ninja turtle on it."

"I told you not to look!"

"And that woman he's with is clearly twelve years old."

"How can you tell that?" I peeked around his shoulder.

"Because he's yelling at some chap for checking out his daughters ass and I quote: She's clearly twelve years old!"

"Well, that's ungentlemanly like!"

"Indeed."

"Wait...you've got like, Superman hearing." I commented.

"I can also leap tall buildings in a single bound, but I find it crass. Come on, let's keep walking."

I didn't want to let him go, he felt so good in my arms, yet even when we were returned to just holding hands, it was still a small slice of the angelic.

We stopped for ice cream not that far away, yet clearly not within eyesight of my Vice Principle. I was not a fan of detention, nor of being busted out to my parents for skipping school. That was the last thing I needed right now. It was bad enough they hounded Aiden and I incessantly about collage preparations and taking an ungodly amount of AP classes. Last thing I needed was for them to find out I was cutting class and hanging out with some random boy I just met.

Although even if I were to be caught, it would have absolutely been worth it.

The vender looked wacky enough, kinda like a street mime that's had three bottles of tequila and chained smoked a pack of Newport's all while on his fifteen minute lunch break. Just the type of person you wouldn't think twice about ordering perishable food items from.

"What will it be Juliet?" The ice-cream guy questioned. His breath smelled like two-day-old Pepto-Bismol.

"Double scoop of chocolate, with hot fudge and chocolate syrup."

"Not a problem." He began to prepare my order, which was way more ice cream then I asked for. Drunken venders are always the best venders.

"Hey, you got that one kind of chocolate syrup that turns all hard after you pour it?" I love that kind.

"Anything for milady. And you Romeo?"

"Just a single scoop of French vanilla on a cone please."

"Ah, a classic man at heart! Don't get too many of those around here these days."

I had already eaten a good portion of my ice cream by the time the vender handed Ethan's his.

"How much are these?" Ethan asked.

The Vender paused what he was doing as he looked at Ethan, blinked a couple of times then returned to his wacky self. "Why, they're free of course! Last meals are always on the house."

Before either of us could respond, he had already starting pushing his cart, ringing his ice-cream bell as he walked.

"Well that was creepy." I stated between mouthfuls of hot fudge covered yumminess.

Ethan eyed after him somewhat, then looked at me. "You've got chocolate on your nose."

"Of course I do, that's just how I roll." Really, that's the best response you can come up with Madison? That's just how I roll?

"Here, let me." Ethan cleaned the tip of my nose with his napkin. "Come on, let's head back."

We didn't really talk much after that, yet it wasn't awkward. More like one of those comfortable silences, the kind you have with someone where the actual silence speaks volumes. Plus, I'm all about the ice-cream baby.

"So what are you doing tonight?" I could see Aiden and Abby sitting on the blanket off in the distance. Looks like Aiden was educating her to the ways of comics again.

"Why, what's up?" Asked Ethan. His hand was covered in melted ice cream. It looked like he wasted more on himself then he did eating.

"There's this thing going down tonight. A Party. Well, bonfire actually..."

"Oh, you mean the one at The Dave's?" Asked Ethan.

I was surprised. "You already know about that?"

"Who doesn't?" Ethan laughed. "They made flyers."

I rolled my eyes. "Of course they did. So, we were all gonna swing by there later and hangout for a bit. If you wanted to stop by..."

"Madison Rose, are you asking me out on a date?" Oddly enough, his demeanor was quite serious.

"Well, I figure all those old chicks back in the day burned their bras for a reason right? So yeah, I guess I am. I mean, if you already got other plans or whatever..."

"I'd love to." Ethan said with all honesty.

Yes!

"But just to be clear." He added. "I'd only be going there to spend time with you." Ethan clarified. "I really don't do well with crowds."

"Don't worry; I'll be sure to keep you occupied." I responded playfully.

We came to a stop next to Abigail, who seemed to be determined to prove her theory on how Wolverine could beat Batman. Yup, my brother has got his hooks in her deep.

"Batman is not God Aiden, just deal with it!" She yelled.

Aiden collapsed back on the blanket. "You're just saying that because you think Hugh Jackman is cute! That's not a valid argument point."

"Well he is cute and Wolverine would so totally shank Batman with his three fingernail thingies!"

Ethan face palmed himself. "They're not fingernail thingies, Abigail, they're unbreakable, adamantium claws."

"Aaand we're here." I said sarcastically to Ethan. "Welcome to my world."

"Your world is a lot better than you think." Ethan said. "Oh and for the record, Batman would absolutely find a way to neutralize Wolverines healing factor. It's pretty much game over after that point. Batman fought Captain America hand to hand and it ended in a stand still. Wolverine doesn't stand a chance."

Aiden almost had a cardiac arrest. "See! Even the new dude knows what's up!"

"So, I'll see you there tonight?" I had to cut in.

"Definitely." Ethan said. He turned towards my brother and best friend. "It was very...interesting meeting you both."

"Take it easy bro." Aiden said.

"Nice to meet you to Ethan." Abigail unexpectedly snapped another picture of him again. "G's up, Ho's down."

"Um...okay?" He looked at me with those impenetrable eyes and then gave me a quick nod. "Madison."

I waved as he ran off down the beach. He was fast, because it only took a second before I couldn't see him anymore. I just stood there, ignoring my brother and his girlfriend as they continued their argument. This time if Mega-Man could beat Link from Zelda in a fistfight.

I just continued to smile to myself. My only thoughts were of Ethan and the fact that I was going to see him again tonight.

I let Abigail drive home, content to just relax in the back seat and reflect. Today's little unexpected excursion to the beach went much better than I had planned. At best, I figured I'd just catch some rays, look at some cute boys surfing and get mildly intoxicated off margaritas.

At worst, it would have rained and we would have called it a day a lot sooner than we did. Never did I expect to meet someone who had enraptured all of my senses the way Ethan Blackwood did. Ever since we moved to Palm Coast last year, I hadn't really found anyone that I was even remotely interested in.

It wasn't because no one was interested in me. That's far from the case; rather it was the sad fact that I wasn't interested in any of them. Not a single one had captured my attention the way I thought my attention needed to be captured. I never connected with any of them like the way Aiden and Abigail related. They were so harmonious together all of the time. Finishing each other sentences, knowing when the other one was about to call seconds before they actually did.

I still find that a little creepy by the way, but to each his own.

Ethan Blackwood.

I even liked the way his name sounded in my mind, yet knowing my luck he'll probably end up being like, the biggest douche ever. Either that or a serial killer. Possibly both. Well, he is coming to The Dave's tonight, so one way or another I am gonna find out.
Chapter 4

The joy of painting...

When we got home, I just went straight to my room. Aiden was making Abigail play test his Little Big Planet level he created again. She pleaded with me with sympathetic eyes to save her, to somehow intervene, but I just shook my head. I had other plans on my mind.

I wanted to sleep, try to get a little bit of rest before the nights outing, but I decided against it. I knew as soon as I closed my eyes that I would have that crazy dream again. The dream I could barely remember other than just a few insane instances. I had planned on going to the library, check out some books on deciphering dreams, but I never did.

I always planned on doing a lot of things that I never do.

I wanted to talk to Mom. Get her advice about how I should approach this whole Ethan thing. Unlike most teens, my Mom and I were extremely close. We talked about everything. She never judged. She never yelled. One of the best things about her was that she knew when to be Mom and when to let go and let me make my own mistakes. Even when she was right, she never once said I told you so.

I tried calling her cell phone, but it went straight to voicemail. I didn't bother to leave a message. I don't leave messages. I tried Dads cell, but his just rang a couple of times then went to voicemail. I guess I'll try them again later tonight. Well, maybe not later tonight, considering I'll probably be just a little wasted.

Tomorrow then.

I dug in the back of my closet, shifting through the mass of clothes I'd acquired until I found my easel and paint supplies. I was in the mood to paint, to put my feelings onto a canvas for the entire world to see. My brother had his comics and plays his video games, Dad works on The Rolling Stone, while Mom likes to watch boxing and I, well, I paint.

That's what I do to decompress. I was pretty good at it. Art was something I picked up when I was young. Aiden was always into to comics as a kid, that's how he learned how to read. We used to draw together, make our own comic books and stuff. He would write them and I would draw them out. That was our thing. Then he found out what a PlayStation was and I discovered oil paint.

People used to compliment my talent, but it was always just a recreational thing to me and today I was in the mood to be recreational.

I plugged my iPod into the speaker system and started to blast Stairway to Heaven by Led Zeppelin, throwing on my favorite worn, black leather jacket. It was what I always painted in.

I don't know what made me do it, choose the subject matter that I did. In the beginning, I didn't even know what it was I painting. It was more or less me just putting oil to canvas, yet as I continued, I slipped into that zone that I get into when things just perfectly click. I'm just there doing what I do, no longer checking the time to see how long I've been at it, but rather, just doing what needs to be done. That's when I finally realized what it was I was painting.

It was the Vampire from my dream. The one that's been chasing me every night for the past thirty days nonstop. I'm not sure why I chose him as my muse. Honestly, this was the first time I'd ever gotten a clear and defining look at him. I could never really remember his face upon waking, even though he haunted my every move at night. There he was, in all his wicked glory, staring at me with those lifeless glowing orbs.

I continued to paint, going into detail now, the forest behind him, the dark clouds swirled together just moments before the lightning struck his body. I poured my soul into it, oblivious to the outside world around me, only focusing on the task at hand. I tried to get every detail I remembered into the painting, every little snapshot that had escaped me before.

"Wow, that's really amazing." Abigail's voice made me jump. I almost dropped the paintbrush I had been using on the carpet.

I exhaled, catching my breath. "Jesus girl, you scared me the shit out of me."

"Sorry Madison, I thought you knew I was here." She replied sincerely.

"Nah, I just...when I paint, I kinda just get into this, I don't know, zone I guess. I just block out the world and nothing else exists. How long have you been standing there?"

"Few minutes." Abigail crossed her arms coming forwards. "It's beautiful." She admitted. "Who is he?"

I shook my head. "I don't know really." I admitted. "Just some guy, I guess."

I hadn't told anyone about my dreams. Not even Aiden. I'm not really a confessional type person, plus, my dreams were intimate, personal. They were mine; they belonged to me and only me. Some things you just don't really want to share with other people. Some things are just yours and yours alone to do with as you see fit.

"Well, whoever he is, he's cute." Abigail admitted.

"Abby, you think everybody is cute." I responded.

"Uh, no not really. Only the ones that are." She exclaimed. "You still coming with us to The Dave's?"

"Yeah, but I thought that wasn't till later."

"Madison, it is later. It's already ten p.m." Abigail headed towards the door. "Aiden wants to be there before eleven."

Abigail disappeared around the corner. I must have really zoned out, because we got home around two in the afternoon. I took a step back and really looked at the painting, at the amazing amount of detail I had poured into it. I had lost myself inside my mind again. I do that sometimes, getting so wrapped up in artistic outlets that hours pass like minutes to me.

I simply stared at the canvas, at the Vampire who has been trying to kill me in my sleep while he stared back.

It didn't take me long to get ready. I had to shower of course, rinse the paint that had splattered all over my body down the drain. Abigail had taken it upon herself to pick out an outfit for me. Something extremely skimpy that, honestly, I don't remember ever buying. I put it on anyway. Sometimes it was better to just appease the beast then to antagonize it.

I came downstairs and Aiden took one look at me and almost shit a brick. Back upstairs I went to change. This time when I returned, he was a lot more satisfied. Just a pair of shorts and a faded Rainbow Brite tank top. Abigail threw her hands up in disgust. She was, by far, a diva when it came to clothes. The fashion Nazi. That was who she was, so it was back upstairs I go to change yet again.

This time I went with a pair of super tight jeans and a green polo shirt. If either one of them doesn't like it, they can bite me.

"Who is gonna driving?" I asked, coming down the steps for a third time.

"I will." Aiden volunteered. "Cause I am not driving back."

"Please! Don't fool yourself; you've been banned from driving. For life." I stated

"Besides, nobody ever drives back from The Dave's." Interjected Abigail. "Their house is like the universal crash spot."

"Well I don't care if we crash there overnight or not, but I can't miss another day of school tomorrow." I announced.

"Don't get all 1984." Said Aiden. "The Thought Police will still be there in the morning."

"Shut up Aiden, Madison's right, I'm not missing class again either."

"Whatever-whatever, well burn that bridge when we come to it. Let's get the hell out of here though."

"I don't think we should take Dads car." I said. "You know how he is; I don't want it to get messed up."

"What's the point of having a car like that if you're not gonna drive it? It's like buying a brand new computer that only has a floppy disk drive and no Internet." He complained.

"Hey, like you said, Dad left you in charge, not me. Let the chips fall where they may on that one."

"Then I get to drive right?" He asked.

"No." I didn't even wait to hear him cry about it, but he didn't.

We took The Rolling Stone anyway; Aiden did have a point about that. This was a once in a lifetime deal we had going on here with that car. I don't know what possessed Dad to leave the keys with us, I wasn't even allowed to look at The Rolling Stone with my eyes directly, only at a tilt, but I doubt if we would get another chance like this again.

So we piled into the car and hit the blacktop with a vengeance.
Chapter 5

The Bonfire...

The Dave's didn't live that far from us really, maybe fifteen minutes if you took the long way. It was a nice little two-story house, perfect for the two of them. Much too expensive then they could afford, yet they managed to pull off rent every month and that's what really counts in the end.

Half of America lived that way.

I could tell the place was packed by the sheer number of cars parked along the shoulder of the road. Much more than normal, which could or could not be a good thing. Either it's filled with a bunch of people we know or it's crowded with a bunch of people we don't. Their parties could go either way on that front. Regardless, it's still gonna be amazing.

I got out the car, making my way up the driveway. I was hoping Ethan was already there. That was my main reason for wanting to come now, even though I had already made plans to make an appearance. I was starting to get butterflies again, the feeling in my stomach creeping up into my chest, little waves of excitement whipping my body into an over anxious frenzy.

"Slow down!" Abigail called out.

I turned to see them at the end of the driveway trying to catch up with me.

"My bad." I tried to play it off.

"Flash fact. I am not the Flash." Commented Aiden.

"She just wants to see her new boy toy!" Laughed Abigail.

"Shut up Abby." I said. "Just come on though."

The garage door was open and there were people chilling inside, smoking cigarettes, drinking and playing what seemed to be an overly intense game of beer pong.

"Madison!" Someone yelled.

It was Dave Berger. Cool kid. He tossed me a beer.

"What's up my girl?" He asked, giving me a hug.

I opened my beer and took a sip. "Good, good. What's up with you?"

He just laughed. "Nothing much, same old-same old. Aiden, bro! What's up?"

Aiden gave him a high five. "What's up with you man?"

"Just got my butt served to me on Call of Duty by some ten year old Asian kid that hasn't hit puberty yet, but other than that..." Dave joked. "Abigail, looking nice."

"Thanks Dave."

"Check it people, I've got beer here in the cooler, but we just put it in there so it's still a little warm. There's more beer down at the beach, that should be good to go." Dave explained. He leaned in closer so the other people in the garage couldn't hear. "That's just the cheap stuff though. I got that good-good in the house, I don't need all these people drinking my expensive shit, know what I'm saying."

"Really?" Asked Aiden. "I think I might need to use the bathroom then."

"Hahaha! That's what I'm talking about bro!" Agreed Dave. He turned to the rest of people in the garage. "Hey, I'm gonna show my man Aiden here where the restroom is, be back in a sec."

Resounding cheers all around from the Beer-Pong crowd.

Dave and Aiden picked their way through the throng before Dave stopped and turned around. "Madison, there's this pretty looking mofo asking about you. Tall, kinda built...smells like oranges."

My heart literally skipped a beat.

"Oranges? Really?" Questioned Aiden

"Hey dude..." Dave just shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe it's his deodorant. I just know I talked to the dude and after he left, I wanted to eat oranges. Like, a lot of them."

"You're just high, Dave." Abigail said.

"That could explain a lot as well." He agreed. "Anyway, he's down by the bonfire. Come on Aiden; let me show you where the, uh, bathroom is."

The two of them disappeared inside.

I followed Abby out the garage, working our way around the house. It was dark here and the ground was uneven, so we had to take it slow. It wasn't before long until we hit the back patio. There were people here and it was much brighter due to the vote you off the island survivor torches they had burning.

We gave some causal hellos then kept it moving, taking the stairs that led down to the beach from the patio. The Dave's backyard was the beach. It was awesome. People were everywhere. Some dancing, some gathered in small little cliques around the bonfire. The music was blasting Notorious B.I.G. as the crowd sang along.

"...It's the N-o..t-o..r-i...o...u-s, you just, lay down slow!" Screamed everyone in unison.

"Abigail! Madison!" Someone yelled out our names close to the bonfire.

"Hey, it's Miranda." Abigail stated. We headed over and took a seat in the sand next to her and a couple of our other friends. It was Mitchell, his sister Miranda and her girlfriend Audrey.

"Glad you two could make it." Mitchell said. "Where's that knucklehead brother of yours?"

"He's up at the house with Dave." I replied.

"Haha, Daaave!" Mitchell was clearly wasted. "I just watched him get beat down by some nine year old kid. Dave was talking all this crap over the mic on X-box live and this little kid is like, POW, headshot, then Dave respawns. POW, headshot, respawn. POW, headshot, respawn. It was awesome!"

I took a sip of my beer. "Yeah, he told us. How long have you been here?"

"Not long." Miranda said. "We brought in some wood pallets for them to burn. Our contribution to the cause."

"So who are all these people?" Audrey asked. "I only know about half of them."

I just shrugged.

"They had flyers all over Flagler beach this morning." Abigail stated.

"You were at the beach? I wanted to go swimming all day!" Audrey exclaimed. "And it sucks because I sit by the window in most of my classes and it was so nice out."

"Did I miss anything at school today?" My beer was done already and I wanted another.

"Nope. Most exciting thing was a fire alarm, but that's about it." Mitchell got up. "Beer run. Who wants what?"

"Heineken." I said.

"Corona." Said Abigail.

"Me too." Miranda added.

"I wanna Bud light." Audrey stated.

Mitchell paused. "Really? A Bud light?"

"What's wrong with that?" She asked.

"What are you on, a diet?" He asked. "Fuck it. Bud Light. I'll be back."

I scanned the crowd searching for Ethan, but he wasn't here. Well I knew he was here, especially after the way Dave described him, but he wasn't here. I hope he hasn't left already. That would totally suck.

Besides, Abigail, Miranda, Audrey and Mitchell were the only people I really hung out with. There weren't a whole lot of things I had in common with the people of Palm Coast, yet the few that I did click with made my life extremely easier.

"Hey, have you seen this kinda tall guy..." I made a motion with my hand to demonstrate height.

"Girl, you got to give us more to go on then that." Laughed Miranda.

"Well if you would just let me finish." I rolled my eyes. "Kinda tall, dark hair, really cute..."

"Really cute, or really cute to you, there's a difference." Audrey stated.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Cause, you thought that one guy was cute, what's his face." Continued Audrey. "The one who looks like Conan O'Brien."

"Jimmy!" Abigail cried out.

"Yeah, that's him, Jimmy."

"What are you talking about?" I demanded. "Jimmy was cute."

"Jimmy peeled and ate his own scabs." Audrey made a barf face.

"What?" I refused to believe that. "No he didn't."

"Yes he did. I was there. In Chem class."

"Yeah, I saw him. I was there to." Abigail sadly agreed.

"Why would he, why would anyone do something like that?" I asked.

"Because they dared him to do it." Audrey exclaimed.

"Well that's different then, that's a dare." I conceded.

"Are you really making excuses for him?" She asked

Mitchell returned with an arm full of alcohol. "Ladies." He started passing out orders, then sat back down. From his pocket, he pulled out a bunch of shot glasses and a bottle of Grey Goose Vodka. "Compliments of Dave. He said don't drink it all and don't share it with nobody but us."

Miranda took the bottle "I'll pour the shots!"

"That still doesn't mean he wasn't cute though." I whispered under my breath."

Miranda placed the shot glasses all in one line and began pouring, moving the bottle from one glass to the next, in rapid succession until they were all filled.

"Cheers!" We said in unison, then slammed it down.

Rinse. Repeat. Rinse. Repeat. Rinse. Repeat. Rinse. Repeat.

I was feeling extremely good. Very happy. The music was excellent, a mix somebody brought down from New York. I stood up, drained the last of my beer, took another shot then closed my eyes and started to dance, just letting the rhythm flow through my consciousness, overtaking me with its tempo.

Audrey got up and we danced together for a bit, moving in concert with the bass. Seductive and sensual. I felt free from all the madness that can swallow a star whole and crack a planet in half. We were dancing close, her hands around me, touching my stomach. She was soft, delicate and extremely beautiful. Heads turned and stared. We continued to dance, enjoying the attention. We gave them something to stare at.

That's when I saw him.

Sitting alone across from us by the bonfire, extremely close to the flames, to the point that the heat should have made him back up, but it didn't. He was watching me, smiling, enjoying the show. The firelight played off his eyes, those beautiful eyes of his; so emerald they named an entire city after it.

I made my way over to him, I wanted to be in his arms, to relive the way it felt when he touched me, but it was so hot next to the bonfire.

David Anderson threw another wood pallet on and there was an explosion of heat and flames as the bonfire arched towards the sky.

"I have made FIRE!" David screamed in his caveman voice, grabbing fistfuls of sand, throwing them in the air.

I grabbed Ethan by the arm. "Come on. Come with me. It's too hot here."

"Okay." He replied as I dragged him back towards my friends.
Chapter 6

Trouble in paradise...

I was so glad he was here. My heart was thumping in my chest so loud it sounded like a drum line being played in my ears. I stopped him suddenly then smelled his neck.

"You do smell like oranges." I whispered.

"Excuse me?" I could tell he wanted to laugh.

"Nothing. Never mind." I replied. "I didn't think you were gonna come."

"I wouldn't miss this for the world." He responded.

I continued walking, grabbing his hand, pulling him along until we reached my friends.

"Everybody, this is Ethan. Ethan, this is everybody."

"Hello." He gave a brief wave before we both sat down.

"Okay, so he is cute." Audrey admitted.

"See, I told you!" I turned to Ethan. "You don't eat your own scabs do you?"

"Uh...not since I was four, I think." He was confused, yet rolled with it.

I just pointed at every one and gave a semi-drunk nod.

That's when Dave Berger and Aiden came stumbling over, dropping down, kicking up sand everywhere.

"Look what we brought!" Dave exclaimed, holding a large Philly cigar rolled with weed. "Some of that sticky, icky-icky ooh weee!"

"Ethan, my man, you made it." Aiden gave him a hug.

"Heeey, its Mr. Orange!" Yelled Dave. "You smoking with us dude?"

Ethan shook his head "No, I can't. Marijuana kinda gets me, I don't know, it just kinda gets me paranoid."

"I can feel you on that bro." Dave agreed.

"If it's cool, I'd like some of that Vodka though." Ethan added.

"Hey, knock yourself out dude." Dave was already lighting the Philly as he spoke. "Friend of Madison is a friend of mine."

He poured himself a shot, tossed it back then took another.

I was leaned up against Ethan, his arms wrapped around me protectively, chin resting softly on the top of my head. The full moon was out, reflecting its light across the ocean's surface, it was wondrous sight to behold.

They passed the Philly to me and I took two puffs, then passed it along. "It's too many people, that thing is almost done." I announced.

"That's all I got dudes and dudettes." Dave said apologetically. "Anybody else got some green on them?"

"Yeah!" Abigail exclaimed. "I forgot, I bought some earlier at the beach today, a forty bag."

She checked her pockets. "It's not on me though. It's in my purse, in the car."

"It's cool, I got it." I said, as she was about to get up.

"You sure?" Abigail questioned. "I can run up there and get it real quick if you want."

"Nah, it's cool. I've gotta use the bathroom anyways." I told her.

"You want me to come with?" Ethan whispered in my ear.

"I'm good. It'll just take a sec." I told him. "Besides, I want you to get to know everybody. I'll be right back."

I stood just a little too quick, not realizing how wasted I truly was. Yeah, nobody is driving home tonight. Abigail drank way more than I did and I'll never give Aiden the keys again.

I headed up to the house, passing Dave Anderson who was passed out on the beach next to the bonfire. Oddly enough, he was wearing a T-shirt that read: "That Guy".

He opened his eyes, staring at me half-conscious. "The Mutant among us may be you!" He screamed before passing out again.

I shook my head and continued up the steps to the patio, making sure I gripped the handrails. I'd seen some posters put up that had that slogan. I thought it was for a movie, but I hadn't seen any commercial for it yet.

When I reached the top of the stairs, I realized there were still people up here, not as much as before, but enough. People I knew from school, one way or another though. No unknowns or anything like that.

I took it slow as I made my way around the side of the house where it was darkest, rounded the corner with practiced ease and found myself out front by the garage, which was completely empty at this point. I went inside and made a beeline towards the bathroom, which wasn't as clean as I hoped, yet nowhere near as disgusting as I expected.

Thank God for the little things.

I put some toilet paper down around the seat and sat down, grabbing one of the porno magazines that were in the rack in front of me. I flipped through the pages, never really stopping until the very end.

"Those can't be real." I said to myself.

I finished, wiped myself and then put the magazine back, washing my hands briefly before staring at my reflection in the mirror. My eyes were bloodshot red and just mere slits because of the marijuana. I made a pose, frozen frame style and then applied a little touch up make up. Some eyeliner and eye shadow, little lip-gloss and some fresh foundation. I made another snapshot pose.

Yup, I look good bitch.

I made my way out of the bathroom. There were already a couple of people passed out on the couch. Few others were playing video games. I went into the kitchen and checked the fridge. Krispy Kreme donuts on the top shelf.

Yahtzee!

I grabbed two. Ate one immediately and then grabbed another. They were so good. The two I had in my hand, I placed on a napkin and threw in the microwave for ten seconds. White Room by Cream was playing somewhere upstairs and I danced along waiting for my donuts to be done.

Ding!

I pulled them out and took a large bite. Even better warm! I opened the fridge again and checked for beer. Nothing but Bud Light, but it would do the do. I grabbed a bottle, popped the top and took a large gulp as I headed out the kitchen door into the garage, making my way down the driveway towards my car.

I could still hear the music, it was the guitar solo at the end and I continued to dance while I finished my donuts and drank the rest of my beer. I was at the car soon enough, fumbling for the keys, so I could pop the trunk. I really wish I had some twizzlers right now. That would perfect.

"Open the door and get inside of the car." Someone said from behind.

"What?" I asked, turning around to see who was talking to me.

It was some guy. He was dressed in black. Black jeans, black combat boots, black jacket, everything was all black. He was holding a gun and it was pointed directly at my head.

I dropped my beer. "Oh shit."

The guy hit me across the face with his freehand, knocking me backwards. "I'm not going to ask you again." He explained.

I began fumbling for the keys, dropping the donuts. My lip was bleeding; I could taste the blood on my tongue. Metallic and copper. I was trembling so bad it was difficult for me to concentrate. Where is everybody? Why isn't anybody else out here? Why did I have to come by myself? Ethan wanted to come. Abigail wanted to come. I didn't have to come by myself.

Oh God, I'm going to die.

"Now!" He demanded in the harshest of whispers.

"Okay, okay." I managed to reply. I couldn't find the keys. Where in the hell were the keys? I was too drunk and to high focus. God, why am I even here? I should be at home studying for...for something! I shouldn't be HERE though; I should be anywhere else BUT here!

"If you don't open the door, I'm going to put a hole in your skull then open it myself." He struck me again, harder this time. I fell backward against the car and tumbled to the ground. He was standing above me now, still pointing the gun at my head.

There was a sudden movement behind him. Everything happened so fast; I barely witnessed it at all. Someone grabbed his wrist and spun him around, twisting the gun from his hand, while seizing him by the throat and throwing him against the side of the car. He fired the gun once, shooting the man in black in the leg.

"Run." The guy said to my attacker.

"You...you shot me!" He cried out, holding his wounded limb as he tried to stop the bleeding.

My savior pressed the gun barrel flush against the man's forehead. "And I'll kill you." He proclaimed. "Run."

The man in black scampered off into the darkness.

The new guy stared into the distance, watching, as if he could still see my assailant even though he was no longer in eyeshot.

"You okay?" He asked, finally satisfied at whatever he was looking at.

I didn't know what to do. I was so scared. Paralyzed with fear, like a deer caught in oncoming headlights.

"Hey...hey, everything's fine now." The guy said, ejecting the clip from the gun. He bent close, offering these things to me as a show of peace. "He's gone now, he can't hurt you anymore."

I took them from him slowly; the gun was so heavy in my hands. A car drove past us on the street, their headlights bearing down on us briefly.

"You'd better put that away, before a Cop sees it." He bent down slowing, picking up the keys to the car from the ground. No wonder I couldn't find them! I had already dropped the stupid things.

He opened the trunk.

"We...we should call them." I stuttered.

"Call who?" The guy asked.

"The Cops." I replied. "Report what...what just happened to me." I was shaking so badly that I could barely form a coherent thought.

"Yeah, I don't think that's such a good idea." The guy said. "May I?" He reached for the gun slowly.

I hesitated at first, not sure if I should give the weapon back to him, but I did anyway. If he really wanted to kill me, I would be dead by now.

He took the items from my hand, inserting the clip back into the gun, clicking the safety on, then buried it somewhere inside my trunk. I was so glad to have that thing away from me.

"What are you, sixteen, seventeen?" He asked, slamming the trunk closed.

"Seventeen." I declared. "But what does that have to do with anything? That man, he's getting away. We need to call the police."

The guy just shook his head. "Because you smell like a brewery. That's why it's not a good idea." He initiated a step forward and sniffed me.

I instinctively pulled away. "What are you doing?"

He made a face. "What is that? Marijuana?"

"Yeah, so?" I answered.

"You can call the Cops if you want, report what happened." He began. "More than likely, they'll just arrest everybody here for underage drinking and possession of illegal narcotics. That's on you though." He pulled out his phone and began to dial 911.

"No, wait..." I called out.

"Yes?"

"Is he, is he gone? The man, I mean. The man in black." I asked.

The guy put his cell away. "Yeah, he's gone."

"Thank you." I said in all honesty.

"You're welcome."

"I didn't get...I didn't get your name." I said.

"I didn't give it." He responded. "What's so special about you Madison?"

"Wait, you know me? You know my name?"

"I know a lot of things, Madison Amber Rose." He continued. "But that's not important. What is important is why YOU."

"I don't understand. What's going on? How do you know me?" I was starting to get afraid again.

"That gun, that's a Colt 1911." He stated. "Did you know that?"

I went to speak, but he just continued talking, not really waiting for a response.

"Of course you didn't, but that's beside the point. That gun is worth over three thousand dollars. If you need money, if you really need cash, like as in right now, you don't carjack a person with a three thousand dollar gun."

I could hear someone calling my name in the distant. It was Ethan. He would be here in just a few seconds.

"So what you have to ask yourself, Madison Amber Rose, is what's so special about you? What's so important about you in particular, that a man, using a three thousand dollar gun, would try to kidnap you?"

"He wasn't trying to kidnap me." Ethan where are you? "He, he just wanted the car is all."

The guy smiled. "Then you have nothing to worry about, do you?" He started to leave, walking in the opposite way of the voices calling my name.

"Hey, where are you going?" I called out.

"Behind the boathouse." He motioned for me to follow. "I'll show you my dark secret." Then just like that, he was gone. But I don't mean, gone, as in ran off. I mean gone, as in vanished, disappeared. He just dematerialized in front of me like some ghostly apparition. He was just there and then he wasn't.

"Madison!"

I spun around, suddenly frightened again, but it was Ethan, running towards me. I could tell by the look in his eyes, those gorgeous, radiant eyes of his, that he was worried. Not far behind him trailed Abigail and Aiden.

"Madison! What's going on, are you okay? I thought I heard... something." The look on his face, how determined he was to protect me, made me realize that there was anything he wouldn't do to keep me from harm.

I collapsed into his outstretched arms, comforted by his protective embrace, the tears overflowing from my eyes, a waterfall of emotion that I could no longer sustain. "I just wanna go home. Just take me home." That was all I could manage in-between sobs.

"What's wrong? What's going on?" Abigail demanded, but I couldn't answer her, not now. I couldn't stop crying. It was all I could do to stand, let alone speak.

"Oh my God, she's bleeding." Abigail noted in horror.

"I don't know what happened." Ethan held me tightly. "All she said was that she wanted to leave, she wanted to go home."

Abigail was stroking my hair, trying to calm me down. "It's okay, baby." She whispered. "Everything is gonna be just fine. You wanna go home, we'll go home."

"Where are the keys?" Aiden asked. "I'll drive us."

"Goddamn it Aiden!" I cried out furiously. "You're not driving the fucking car, so stop asking!"

"Hey, it's okay, everything's gonna be okay." Ethan whispered. "Give me the keys, I'll drive. Everybody just get in, we're leaving."

I let the keys pass from my hands to his as he helped me into the back seat. Abigail climbed in with me and I wrapped myself up in her arms and continued to cry softly, my head against her chest as she continued to gently stroke my hair in a vain attempt to calm me down.

I had started to shake again, the events of the past few minutes replaying over in mind. If it wasn't for some random guy, there's no telling what would have happened to me tonight. I could be in a ditch somewhere, or worse. I just wanted to be as far away from this place as possible. I never wanted to come back.

Ever.

I closed my eyes, my saviors face staring back at me within my mind's eye. He saved my life and I didn't even know his name. The way he just took that guy down, snatched the gun from his hand and shot him in the leg. It was like some Jason Bourne shit. Then he disappeared, just up and vanished. How could anybody do something like that? How could a person move that fast?

He knew who I was, knew my name. I tried to pass that part off considering the small size of our town. Not to mention if he was at the party, it would have been easy to ask random person number three who I was, yet, the way he spoke my name, it was as if he actually knew me. He knew who I was, not in just passing, but rather on some deeper level altogether.

The things he said though. The expensiveness of the gun, the gun that was now resting comfortably in my trunk, God, I hope we aren't pulled over.

I called out randomly to Ethan. "Don't speed okay."

"Sure." He was looking at me through the rearview mirror and I could see the worry in his eyes, see the guilt he carried for not being there with me when everything went down. He doesn't even know what happened and I could tell he was blaming himself because he wasn't there to stop it.

"Whatever you say Madison."

I didn't want to speak anymore and just closed my eyes, trying not to concentrate on anything at all, but it was futile. I couldn't get the vision of the gun barrel pointed at my face out of my head. I just kept reliving the man in black hitting me repeatedly, only to have his face replaced by that of my savior. My beautiful, dark haired savior. The more I thought of him, the more I wanted to know more about him.

He was no older than me and he knew how to handle a gun with ease. He shot my attacker with no remorse, no hesitation, just BAM! When he ejected the clip and cleared the chamber, he didn't even look at the gun when he did those things, he was looking at me the entire time. Something like that, you just don't pick up randomly at The Dave's, smoking weed and playing video games.

So you have to ask yourself Madison. What's so special about you?

That was the last thing I thought before sleep overtook me in the back seat of my father's car.
Chapter 7

Don't let the bedbugs bite...

I was in the forest again. The rain was dying down to a mist, the darkness of my situation overwhelming. A dead Vampire lay at my feet behind me, the essence of his soul drained away into the Blade of Osiris for all eternity. At my front was impending doom as the Vampires attempted to circle around me and cut off any means of escape.

"Well what are you waiting for?" I screamed in challenge. "I haven't got all fucking night!"

It was the dream again, the same nightmarish hell that has been plaguing my afterthoughts every night for the past month. Yet this night, this one time, the dream held no sway over me. Tonight I had experienced real terror, came close to true death and not this subconscious facsimile of one.

Everything freeze froze, going from normal, to slow, then from extreme slow to stop. I was taking control. Taking back what was mine. I refused to be terrified by the phantom images my mind created. Not now. Not ever.

I was looking at myself. Looking at the still frame of me that was bent low in a warrior's crouch, about to strike out at the closest person, the closest Vampire that was near me. I didn't recognize the dress she was wearing, the torn little white dress that clung to her skin because of the rain.

I walked close to myself, circling the dream me, that innocent little girl with a face twisted into a hate fueled, murderous rage. I didn't even recognize this girl, even though she was a reflection of myself. I couldn't imagine what had happened to turn her from who I am now, to what she was, yet I could feel strength radiating off her person. A kind of power and conviction that I never possessed in the real world.

I wish I was as strong as her. I wish I had her singular vision of authoritative dominance. She wielded the Blade of Osiris as if it was her own, like the strange volcanic metal was just an extension of her arm, then a mere weapon. I tried to gain a better vantage point, to examine what the Blade really looked like, but upon coming closer, it emitted some type of solar flare, a bright, blinding flash of brilliance that overwhelmed and bewildered my senses all at once.

I turned my attention instead towards the Vampires in front of me, if that's what they truly were. They looked normal enough, nothing very Vampy about them. Nothing except the eyes. The glowing eyes that seemed to drip with death and destruction. If I saw nothing else but them, nothing except the eyes alone, I would be in fear. They reminded me of the man in black. The way his eyes looked every time he punched me. His weren't as venomous of course, nowhere near as defiantly demonized as theirs, but they were of the same brood, belonging to monsters that only intended to do me harm.

"Reverse." I said aloud.

The dreamscape followed my orders explicitly. The world around me moving in rewind as I watched it all unfold methodically, searching for something that I didn't even know existed, yet realizing that I would recognize it nonetheless once my eyes fell upon it.

The Vampires disappeared back into the forest. The dead Vampire ascended from the ground, my Dreamself rising in the air, to be held in his grasp, pulling the Blade of Osiris out of his chest. I'm hiding it behind me now, the Vampire is falling backwards into the mud, covered in black smoke and crackling blue lightning.

The splintered tree reforms. Lightning from the Vampires chest flies into the sky. I'm chanting now. The Vampire is talking, yet I don't understand his words because they are in reverse. He's staring at me, cold and calculating. He's not moving, not breathing; he's not doing anything other than casting his menace in my direction.

I wonder what is going on in that mind of his? What exactly do the dead dream of? I can't shake his stare; the venom that's woven into it so intricately, one could not separate it from the other, not knowing were the one ended and the other began. I could feel his hatred, so strong that it was almost palatable.

That's when I noticed it. When I realized that he was staring at me! He had long stopped paying attention to my Dreamself, giving her no more thought; yet he could not keep his eyes off of me. The real me! The me that was in control of the dream!

I awoke, jerking myself foreword, choking off a scream. We were pulling into the driveway to my home. I think I scared Abigail; her face was pale white, no doubt do to my sudden night terror thrashing out the blue.
Chapter 8

Is it over yet...

"I'm okay." I managed, cutting off any response she could muster. I wasn't in the mood to explain myself. Not right now. All I wanted was the safety of my own bed. I didn't want to talk, didn't want to explain what happened to me at The Dave's, nor did I wish to speak of dreams I could vaguely extrapolate the meaning of.

Ethan parked the car. My Ethan. My beautiful Ethan with the emerald, treasure chest eyes. How could someone be so beautiful? It was more than that though, something deep rooted that was impossible to explain, yet remained evident nonetheless.

Even as he opened the car and helped me out the back seat, a part of me was glad he wasn't there with the gunman. He would have tried to do something, tried to save me, tried to prevent...everything. More than likely, he would have just ended up getting hurt.

He is only human.

I hugged him in the driveway, refusing to let go. I felt safe in his arms, as if nothing could harm me as long as he was around. I breathed in his scent, smiling inwardly. He really did smell like oranges.

I loved it.

I could hear Abigail and Aiden talking in the background. Their voices were muted; it was difficult to make anything out. I had buried myself in Ethan's embrace; everything else was just static cling, the entirety of the world second in my mind. This was important. This moment right now. I couldn't envision it more clearly, more perfectly.

The bullshit that made the world go round was irrelevant, superficial. Once you were able to make that connection, able to pierce through to the heart of it, everything else made perfect sense. The past is irreversible. The future was paradox, always present, yet never promised. There was only the moment. The right now. There was nothing else.

It was all so strange, this closeness that I felt with Ethan. Even though we had just met, it was like our souls had become intertwined, as if in another place, another lifetime ago we had been the dearest of confidants, only just now having the luxury of reconnecting all over again.

"Where do you live Ethan? I'll drive you home." Abigail volunteered. She was concerned, I could tell she didn't want to leave me alone, that she wanted to stay with me. There was a reason why she was my best friend.

"It's okay, I'm good." Ethan replied. "I'm not that far from here actually. I can walk it."

I frowned. "Really? You live down the street from me?"

"Well, it's really more like, down the street, up the block and around the corner." He responded whimsically. "But it's all good."

"That sounds like too far to walk to me." Abigail countered.

"It's nothing I haven't done before." He answered. "Besides, it's late, I should be heading back."

He kissed me softly. "That is if you're okay? I could stay a little while longer if you like; wait till you fall asleep before I go."

I wanted him to stay. I wanted to fall asleep in his arms, but I was just being selfish. It really was late and I didn't want him walking home by himself at all, let alone heading out even further into the early morning.

"No, it's okay." I grumbled. "You've already been inducted into enough of my madness for one night. Will I see you tomorrow?"

"Sooner than you think." He responded. "We'll talk more then."

He kissed me on the forehead once, backed away and disappeared into the night. No goodbyes, no waiting for a response, just a quick little back pedal out the driveway and a brisk walk down the street.

I watched him for a minute and when I couldn't see him any longer I made my way towards the door where Abigail and Aiden were waiting patiently.

We went inside and I locked the door behind us setting the alarm. I had never done that before, actually taking the time to punch in the code for the house alarm. I never thought we needed it here and mom was always yelling at me for not using it. To me, it was just a waste of time, yet time has a way changing everything.

Abigail turned to Aiden. "Hey, can you give us a sec?"

"Uh, yeah, sure." He answered warily.

I could tell he wanted to talk, but there seemed to be something going on between them, their own personal language expressed with eyes alone. Unspoken dialogue. They were so good at it, there were times I could swear they were having whole conversations without having to speak a word.

"If you need me lil sis, just holla." Aiden hugged me and then jetted up the steps, taking them two at a time until he was out of eyeshot.

I slumped down on the couch, Abigail following after, sitting next to me.

"Alright, so what's going on, what happened?" I could see how sincere she was. It was welcoming to be around her. Abigail was anything but fake and it was easy to see why my brother was in love with her.

"Someone tried to steal the car." I sighed.

"What?" Abigail was astonished.

"Yeah." I continued. "They had a gun and everything."

"Oh my God, are you okay?" She grabbed my hand, still in shock.

"I'm fine now, I guess. There was some kid, he was at the party, really cute kid, about our age, he did some, I don't know, Marine Corps, James Bond with the kung-fu grip type move on him and snatched the gun out the dudes hand and shot him in the leg."

"Wait a minute; he shot him in the leg?" She was completely stunned. "Like for real-for real, shot him in the leg?"

I rolled my eyes. "No Abigail, for play-play. Of course for real."

"That's insane!"

"I know, shits crazy right? The gun is still in the trunk of the car."

Abigail shook her head in disbelief. "Right now?"

"Yea."

"Oh that's madness. This whole thing is madness." Abigail commented. "Wait, where was this guy at, the James Bond dude? When we showed up, you were alone."

"Yeah, see, this is where it gets creepy." I began.

"You mean there's more? I should have made some popcorn for this."

That made me laugh. Abigail always said things that made me laugh at the most inappropriate times. Thank goodness for the little things.

I leaned closer, regardless of the fact that we were already sitting directly next to each other. "He wouldn't even tell me his name, I mean, I asked him, but he got all douchebaggy on me. But get this, when he left, he just like, up and disappeared."

Abigail squinted her eyes. "What do you mean by disappeared? He ran off?"

"No, he disappeared. Like, I don't know, dude just vanished. Star Trek style. Beam me up Scotty."

"You sure he didn't just leave, Madison?" I could tell she doubted me and honestly why wouldn't she? I almost got shot to death over a car that isn't even mine and here I am talking about the incredible vanishing man.

"You don't believe me." It wasn't a question, more like me verbalizing the statement, giving it credence and validity.

Abigail stared at me, the wheels in her mind turning. I could almost see it in her eyes; see her mind working it out, digesting everything, letting the pieces fall together in their proper place.

She didn't speak for a while, gazing intently at me without blinking. "Yeah." She said finally, nodding in agreement. "Yeah, I believe you."

"I'm telling you Abby, after everything that happened, after the whole ordeal, that moment frightened me the most. Everything else I could handle, the gun, the carjacking, that's just life you know, shit happens, I can process that. But when that guy just vanished in front of my eyes, people don't do that, people just don't evaporate into thin air."

"Before my Grandmother died, she told me this story." Abigail stated.

"Uh, random, but okay."

"Just listen Madison." Abigail interjected. "She told me and this was on her death bed at the hospital the night she died mind you. She told me when she was young, maybe eight or nine, she was out playing in the woods with her friend, this little black girl. The girls mom was like, I don't know, their cook or the house cleaner or something. Anyway, Grandma is old, like, really old, so this is back in the day in the deep south, before civil rights and Martin Luther King, it's before all that."

"Well they were out playing and they came across this guy. Black dude, Klan got to him she figured cause he was all strung up to a tree by his neck, dead. Well, they got to screaming, my Grandma and her friend, when the men who did it, the men who killed that black guy, heard all the yelling and came running over. There were about six of them."

"They were gonna kill them both, that much she knew for sure, cause they were talking about it amongst themselves. Gonna kill her friend just cause she was black, you know, cause that's just how they rolled and they was gonna kill my Grandma cause she'd seen them, could put faces with names, that sorta thing."

"Well they strung up her little friend. Right there in front of her, hung her up to the tree right next to the dead guy. She watched her friend die and there was nothing she could do about it. When it was her turn, they put a hood over her head, said since she was white; they could do that much for her."

"She said what happened next was hard for her to say, cause it happened so quick and with the bag over her head she couldn't see what was going on, but she said there was a lot of screaming and then nothing but silence."

"Someone pulled the bag off her head and it was a young boy, just a little older than her, maybe thirteen at most. She said he was very pretty, but strong, kind of a dick though. He grabbed her hand and told her to close her eyes and not open them. So that's what she did and he led her away, all the way back to her doorstep."

"But at the moment he took that bag off her head, she said she saw everything, everything around her. She said they were all dead, every one of the men. Blood was everywhere, a massacre and she was so scared because she knew it had to have been the boy; there was nobody else around but the two of them. She didn't know how he did it, but he killed them all. A thirteen year old boy killed six grown men, ripped them apart she said."

"While he was leading her back home, he told her that he was in the woods, that, that's where he lived, but he had gone out hunting for deer and heard them screaming. He said he ran towards the noise, but was too far away to save her friend and he apologized for not being able to get there in time and save the little girl's life."

"Now Grandma described him fully to me that night and she claimed from that point, from the moment she met him, she would still see him every once in a while, every couple of years or so, just watching her from a distance. Just another face in the crowd, until she recognized him and he would just disappear and she wouldn't see him again, not for another five or six years or so.

"She said he never aged though. Regardless of how many years passed, he always looked the same, just like he did when they first met in the woods all those years ago. Now Grandma was pretty doped up by then, cancer had just ate through her body by this point, so you couldn't really trust if what she was saying was her or the morphine anymore. She told me this and I just let her talk, cause she liked it when I listened and when she was done, she was done and she went to sleep and I had to piss really bad."

"So I left her there, went to the restroom, stopped at the snack machine, got some chips and what not and came back to tell her I was leaving. So the closer I got to the room, I could hear her voice you know, she was awake again, talking to someone. I figured it was just a nurse checking in on her or maybe the doctor.

"I got to the room and by her bed was this little kid. He was holding her hand and they were talking about something, the boy was speaking so low I could barely hear him, but tears were coming down her eyes, yet she didn't really look sad, you know. Well this boy looked up at me and just smiled. Freaked me the hell out and then he just, I don't know, dissolved is what I wanna say."

"Grandma was dead before I entered the room, but she looked, peaceful. At ease. Thing is though, I've seen that boy, that same kid who was standing next to my dead Grandmothers bedside, three times in the past seven years and he's just as my grandmother described him when she was a child. I've seen him three times, just for a moment mind you and he still hasn't aged a day. And he always evaporates, star trek style, just like you said your boy did."

"I don't know if he's a ghost, or maybe both me and my Grandma are just crazy, but I believe you. When you say you were saved by a person who vanished afterwards, I believe you, because it's not the first time I've heard that kind of story from someone I trust before."

There was silence between us. I wasn't really sure what to say, it was just so much to digest. So random and yet, set within the events of tonight, more plausible then I would like to have admitted.

"Awk-ward." Abigail laughed.

"No, I'm just absorbing everything, Abby." I said reassuringly. "And you've seen this...boy repeatedly since your grandmother died?"

"Yeah." She admitted.

"What did it look like when he, you know, disappeared?" I needed to compare the similarities, I wondered if she was just trying to humor me, make me feel not as insignificant as I already do.

"It's hard to explain, I guess." Abigail stated. "It's like he was there and then he wasn't."

"Abigail!" Aiden's voice interrupted us, cutting through the conversation like a real life commercial break. "Do you know where my PlayStation controller is?"

Abigail let out a frustrated sigh. "That boy couldn't take a shit without me demonstrating toilet paper first."

I chuckled. "I'm tired anyway. I just wanna sleep and try to forget this night even happened." That was a lie of course. There was too much adrenaline pumping in my veins for me to even attempt going to bed. Too many things running through my mind, untamed and unchecked, mental imagery that I lacked the proper motivation to contain or control.

"Are you sure?" She was still being protective. "I am not thinking about Aiden and his nonsense right now."

"No, it's fine Abby, go to him. Besides, he's gonna want to know what went down tonight and I'm not up to talking about it again. What's past is past. It's done. It happened and now I just wanna move forward and not have to relive it all over again."

"Fair enough." She finally conceded.

"You are staying though, right? Spending the night, I mean?" Just cause I wanted to be alone didn't mean I wanted to be alone.

"Yeah, of course." Abigail gave me a hug. "I wasn't planning on leaving, not tonight."

"Are you gonna get in trouble for staying out all night?"

"No worries Madison." Abigail got up from the couch. "I'm eighteen, plus as long as I stay honor roll, my Mom doesn't really care what I do."

"Abigail!" Aiden yelled out again.

She breathed in deep, gaining her composure. "Did you check the closet floor?"

"The closet floor? Why would his controller be in the closet?" I asked.

"Because your brother is an idiot." She responded coolly.

"Found it! Thanks!" Screamed Aiden.

"Point proven." She said feeling completed vindicated.

I just laughed. "I'll see you tomorrow morning." She was bouncing up the steps, heading towards Aiden's bedroom and I found myself suddenly alone.

Talking to Abigail soothed my nerves, giving me the time I needed to unwind somewhat, the edge slowing leaving. Maybe sleep was possible, though I doubted that I was going to get up from the couch tonight.

I stretched out on the sofa, getting comfortable, declaring a good position for the long haul, then switched the television on, flipping through the channels. If I was gonna sleep, it needed to be soon, cause school was about four hours off. I had considered cutting class again, it's not like I didn't have a good reason for it this time around, yet decided against it. I didn't want to be in the house all day by myself. Maybe I'll just come in late. Nothing serious was happing in first period anyway.

I was flipping through the channels at turbo speed; slowing down occasionally, warp speeding through all the Spanish and Jesus channels when something caught my eye.

I was already four or five channels past it before the image registered in my brain and I clicked back a couple of stations until I found what I was looking for. It was a news broadcast, a local one at that. I turned up the volume frantically, hoping I hadn't missed everything the Anchorwoman was talking about, because right there, plastered across the right hand side of my TV screen was a photo of the man who tried to carjack me earlier tonight.

"...found dead near Flagler Beach earlier this evening. The unidentified male was found behind a dumpster on the corner of Palm Coast Highway with an apparent gunshot wound in his upper left thigh; yet preliminary autopsy reports confirm that cause death was attributed to strangulation. Police have no suspects at this time."

"On a stranger note, another alleged mutant sighting occurred in the San Francisco yesterday. This marks the United States seventh unconfirmed sighting in the last fifteen months, five of which were in the State of California, one in Seattle and one Texas. Oakland and the San Francisco Bay area seem to be the epicenter for..."

I couldn't believe it! He was dead. Just like that. I knew it was him, not just from the photo, but from the gunshot he took in the leg as well. They said he was unidentified, but I recognized him well enough and after seeing him up on the screen like that, seeing a close up of his face, I swear I had seen him earlier today as well. He was at the beach where Aiden and I first met. He sold us ice cream.

Last meals are always on the house.

A shudder rumbled its way across my entire body as I remembered his words, placing the drunken slur of a voice against that of my late night attacker. Of course they matched, just like their faces when placed together in my mind.

But then...if he was the same guy, the same drunk clown who sold me ice cream, then that can't be just a coincidence right? I mean, once is an accident, twice is a coincidence, three times is a pattern. I didn't see him three times in one day, but still...

What's so important about you in particular that a man using a three thousand dollar gun would try to kidnap you?

My Saviors voice echoed in my head, the words taking on new meaning as his interpretation of the events superseded my own. Maybe he was right; maybe it was more than just a random carjacking. What if he was targeting me directly?

"Doesn't really matter now, he's dead." I whispered to myself and upon hearing the words aloud, I breathed a sigh of relief.

The Bogeyman couldn't hurt me anymore.

He was worm food now. This made me happy. It made me content, yet the fact that his death was serene in my eyes gave me pause. Despite what happened to me, murder was not something that I condone, yet not only the fact that he was dead, but also the overwhelming fact that he was strangled and his body discarded like trash, these things should not give me any semblance of joy and yet they did.

I resigned not to let this attack weaken me; make me afraid to live life the way I normally would. If I do that, then the terrorists win. I refused to let it change me, yet I could feel it rearranging my outlook, coloring how I view the world. A part of me was colder, meaner and uglier now. Utterly jaded. A small portion of my innocence had been taken, stripped from my soul as if it didn't belong there in the first place.

I didn't want to think about it anymore. Enough was enough. I shut everything off, powering down anything that took electricity and headed back upstairs towards my room. Once inside I locked the door the behind me, stripped down and grabbed my leather jacket.

I tossed the current painting in the corner, replacing the finished portrait with a fresh canvas on the easel. I wasn't sure what I was going to do yet, simply staring at the blank whiteness, doing brushstrokes in my mind before I even picked up the paint.

It was like that for at least twenty minutes. Me just standing there in nothing but my old, battered jacket, which was sporting enough paint on it for twenty pictures. I grabbed the brush, dipped the point in black paint, closed my eyes and freed myself. The restraints of the world began to break free, broken shackles crumbling to rust strewn metal around me.

Nothing else mattered other than the brush in my hand and the paint on the canvas. It was all I saw, all I wanted to believe existed for that singular moment in time. It was all that mattered to me. I rarely opened my eyes this time, just when I needed to add more paint to the brushes tip or to take a quick glance at my work. Then I would close them again, visualizing what it was I wanted to create, my hand tracing out the picture on the canvas as I imagined.

It was something I had one day realized that I could do. That if I was able to find that zone, that inner place within where words didn't exist, where it was just raw abstract emotion burning its own eternal flame of brilliance in the space between spaces. If I was able to come to that place, I no longer needed to look at what I was painting, because it was all just part of me, there inside my mind. My body would just project that inner vision onto the canvas.

These paintings, the ones that require little to no sight to produce, these were some of the best that I've ever produced and tonight I was in that place, in the space between spaces, the thought between thoughts and my hands were just an extension of this, working tirelessly to recreate what I saw there.

I replaced this canvas with another, barely even recognizing what was happening, only knowing that there was no more blank portions for me to express myself on. I had filled them all up with parts of my soul, yet my story wasn't complete, it demanded to be told in full and if it couldn't be visualized on one canvas then another would do.

There was a noise outside my door which pulled me away from myself and begrudgingly I opened my eyes, my muse working its way back to her internal hideaway, that locked portion of my mind that I crawl into in order to have conversations with her.

Someone tried to open the door, realized it was locked, then tapped softly against the hard wood.

"Madison? You awake?" Aiden asked in a small whisper.

I cracked the door open slightly, just enough for him to see my face. "Yeah, what's up?"

"You staying home today or you going to school with us?" He asked.

"You're asking me this now?" I tried to hide my frustration at his intrusion, but I'm sure it played out in my tone somewhat. "You couldn't have asked me this in the morning?"

"Uh, hello, it is morning Madison, first period started like, fifteen minutes ago. Me and Abigail overslept, but we're heading out in like thirty. You coming with or you staying in?"

I glanced at my alarm clock, the one I forgot to set. It was already past nine in the morning. "Umm...yeah, I'll...I'll be down in a few."

"Are you sure? You kinda look..."

I closed the door before he could finish. He was saying something sarcastic now, but I paid him no attention. I had been up all night painting and hadn't even realized it. Sometimes I get a little OCD with it, painting for hours nonstop without even recognizing how much time had elapsed, like tonight, or today rather. I hardly ever sweat it though.

It is what it is.

I looked at the easel and found the face of my savior staring back at me from the painted canvas. Even though I had only met him once, I captured his likeness within the thick brush strokes, to the point you would have thought he was in the room posing for the portrait the entire time.

I hadn't realized how hauntingly beautiful he was until now, the eyes almost eerily hypnotizing. I'd never seen eyes that color before come to think of it, being an odd combination of both gray and amber. His hair reminded me of something a roman soldier would wear in one of those old bible movies, yet it framed his face perfectly and didn't seem out of place or old school.

Yet no matter how gorgeous he appeared, there was something about him that seemed hard and violent. Something in the scowl that spoke violence with his brow. Or could it be that I witnessed firsthand how dangerous he actually was? You would think he would make me feel safe, he did rescue me when there was no one else who could, yet if I never saw him again, I would be okay with that.

My attention was pulled to the first painting I completed and I realized that it was yet another image from my recurring dream; however, this time it wasn't the mysterious stranger that was stalking me through the ancient forest grove. Instead, it was the item that lead to his eventual annihilation at my hands.

It was The Blade of Osiris.

Honestly, this was the first time that I consciously got a good look at the thing, for in my dreams it wasn't something that I took the time to examine, except for the last nightmare, when I was able to take full possession of the dreamscape around me. Even then, it let off such brilliance that it was almost blinding to look at it head on.

Here it was now, painted in exquisite detail and I was in awe. The Blade itself wasn't very large, about the size of a butcher's knife if I had to make a comparison to something I knew. It was all black, yet a clear, pristine ebony that you could almost see through if you looked at it long enough. The tip of the Blade was etched in some type of Azure, brightly glowing hieroglyphic, something you might see on the side of a tomb in ancient Egypt.

Yet it didn't look ancient, not in the least, instead, its style and design seemed ultramodern in appearance, almost alien in nature. It was just odd. I'm not even into to science fiction like that for me to have dreamed up a weapon such as this. Maybe I saw something similar in one of those lame space movies Aiden always has me watching with him.

It wasn't important though, because what I really needed to do at this moment was get dressed, we were already running late. I needed to shower, random parts of my body were streaked in paint, but honestly, I wasn't up to it. I grabbed a pair of skinny jeans and a black tee shirt, the one with the cartoon drawing of Snow White aiming a double barrel shotgun at her evil stepmother, then rushed to the bathroom, brushing my teeth and putting on some deodorant.

When I came downstairs, they were already waiting, kissing on the couch and staring into each other's eyes.

"I'm ready." I announced and the two of them jumped up, still hand holding hands in that playful way couples do when they are excessively into each other.

"Hey, Abigail told me what happened." Aiden began. "I'm sorry lil sis, if I was there..."

"You would have just gotten yourself shot." I really wasn't in the mood for this right now.

Aiden was unfazed by my remark. "That's one theory." He continued. "But I'm gonna put the word out, it's a small town, somebody must have seen him before..."

"It's not necessary Aiden." Here we go...

"What do you mean it's not necessary?" He demanded. "I don't know why we didn't call the police last..."

"Because everybody was drunk and high. If the Cops show up, it'll just cause more drama then it's worth." I said.

"Yeah, but still Madison..."

"He's dead anyway, so it doesn't matter." I was looking for the keys. I couldn't find them.

Again.

"What do you mean he's dead?" Abigail questioned. "When did that happen?"

"I don't know, sometime last night I guess. I saw it on the news after you went upstairs."

Where are the keys? I thought I left them on the counter last night.

"I've got the keys Madison, stop looking." Abigail grabbed my hand. "Where did they find the body? A dumpster?"

"Yeah, well, behind a dumpster." I responded. "How did you know?"

"It's Florida. Dead bodies are either found in the ocean or in dumpsters here." She replied.

"You're way to morbid first thing in the morning you know that? But yeah, behind a dumpster, strangled to death." I grabbed my schoolbooks off the lounge chair. I had a science paper due, well, today I reckon. Oh well, I could get an extension, I guess.

Abigail seemed confused. "Wait, I thought you said he was shot."

"He was. Guess he tried to carjack the wrong person after me."

"If you say so Madison." I could tell by the look on her face that she wasn't going to let it go. "You sure you're okay? You seemed kinda detached."

"What do you want me to say? The dudes dead and I'm kinda stoked about it." That came out a little more caviler then intended.

"Hell yeah, you should be stoked. Mofo got what he deserved." Aiden proclaimed.

"Look, I don't wanna talk about it anymore. Can we just drop it?" All I wanted to do was leave. Either that or stay here and paint. What I didn't want to do was have this discussion any further.

"Yeah, no prob lil sis, it's time to leave anyway, we're late enough as is."

I knew Aiden, knew him my entire life and when I said I didn't wanna talk about something, he recognized when to leave well enough alone.

With Abigail however, I could see this conversation wasn't over by a long shot, but at least she let it drop for now and for the moment, that was good enough for me.
Chapter 9

In school we trust...

I hopped into the driver's seat without further ado about nothing and turned on the stereo, blasting music, my way of indicating that the conversation was over. Aiden hit the back seat as usual, with Abigail taking shotgun. We rode in silence, well mostly silence; Abigail and Aiden were on their phones, texting each other incessantly. It was like they were joined at the hip sometimes, two halves of the same soul.

My thoughts slowly drifted towards Ethan, Mr. Blackwood if you're nasty. I hardly knew him and yet, it was like I'd known him forever, old lovers on the reconnect. Even as much as I desired him, thoughts of my mystery dark haired savior lurked at the edge of my mind. His beautiful face supplanting that of Ethan's, always present, always prominent in the shadow of my memories, ever watchful.

Why wouldn't he tell me his name? As much as he frightened me with his vanishing act, I still owed him my life. I wanted to thank him, to look him in the eyes and offer my sincere gratitude for what he risked for me that night. We both could have been killed if not for his quick actions, which, upon reflection, were just a little too quick, a little too graceful. Almost to the point that it appeared choreographed, when death is just a dance to perform and the tune is set to a murderer's intent.

A thought occurred, devious in nature, yet prodigious in its simplicity. Could my savior, my fierce little, black haired boy with the Barry Allen reflexes, could he have played some role in my attacker's demise? Could he have been the instrument upon which death played its tune?

I mean, he did shoot the guy in the leg like it was nothing, like he was already comfortable with that level of violence. Could it have gone even further than that? The way he watched my attacker run off, there was just a hint of pure malice woven into his features, the way the brow furrowed just so; that adorable little scowl of his.

I smiled, my fear of him melting away. He saved my life and he didn't ask for anything in return. Hell, he didn't even want any credit, didn't even want me to know who he was, yet the impact of our first meeting would...

"Hey, you getting out the car or you doing second period from here?" Aiden's voice brought my focus to attention.

"What?" I asked.

He was already outside, leaning in through the passenger side window. Abigail was behind him, just a little ways off talking to Miranda. "You've just been sitting there since we parked."

"Oh." I halfheartedly responded, cutting off the engine. We were already at school, parked not far from the main campus. I must have been on autopilot. I've been doing that quite more frequently than normal. I grabbed my stuff and exited the vehicle.

"You thinking about Ethan?" Aiden chided, making goo-goo eyes.

"No, I wasn't." I announced, paying him no mind.

Second period had just started, the campus alive and bustling with wayward students going to their next period, cutting class or doing any number of things that have absolutely nothing to do with learning. They were just static cling to me, there, but not.

"I know who she is thinking about." Abigail proclaimed jubilantly. "You're thinking about Hip-Hop Anonymous."

I cocked an eyebrow skeptically. "Hip-Hop who?"

Abigail laughed hysterically. "You know who I'm talking about. He who refused to be named!"

I rolled my eyes. I knew who she was talking about and I was thinking of him. My Savior. My black haired savior who had no name.

"Wait." Aiden interrupted. "Who are you guys talking about?"

"It wouldn't be anonymous if you knew who it was, Aiden." I walked off, not waiting for a response, my English class just around the corner.

"Hip-Hop Anonymous. Hip-Hop Anonymous." Aiden repeated softly to himself. "So, this dude really likes rap music then?"

I ducked into class. Aiden poked his head inside then screamed out: "Is he even a he?"

"Is there something I can help you with young man?" Questioned the woman sitting behind the English teacher's desk.

"Goonie goo-goo!" Aiden replied before running off just as the late bell rang.

I took my assigned seat towards the back of the class, the chair next to me empty. It belonged to this kid, Donnie, who I swore I saw in the hallway on my way to class, but Donnie hardly ever came anymore, to English class that is.

Everyone was starting to settle in, the noise from the students dying down as the mystery woman who sat behind Mr. Jones desk rose to her feet.

"Hello class, my name is Mrs. Shoemowetochawcawe. Mr. Jones is in for emergency surgery, so I'll be your substitute for the next couple of weeks. Now before you butcher my last name, you may refer to me as Mrs. Adahy or Adahy if you so wish, I'm not as stringent when it comes to familiarity. I will not, however, take any type of disrespect in any form or fashion, towards either myself nor the students in my ward, is that understood? Now, while keeping that statement in mind, are there any questions before we begin?"

I had never seen her before, not as a sub at least. She didn't look like any teacher I had ever seen. She was young, for a teacher that is. Twenty-five, twenty-six tops. She was pretty, not that pretty mind you, but too pretty to be a teacher though, at least for AP English.

Adahy was dressed in something very unteacher like, way too much red leather for Palm Coast Florida heat, but she wore it with style, I had to admit. Her jacket was extra fierce. I wanted it. She had long, straight, jet-black ebony hair that was waist length. Very shiny, very taken care of. I could tell she was Native American from the onset, though her British accent threw me off a bit.

Someone raised their hand.

"Yes. You there. Jason Phillip, I believe. You have a question?" Adahy asked.

"Yeah. So what's the deal with Mr. Jones? You said he was in the hospital right? What's up with that?"

"Mr. Jones is undergoing surgery for whatever type of calamity one here in America goes to surgery for." She responded. "Anyone else?"

"What's your name mean?" Someone yelled out.

"Google it." Adahy fired back.

"How can I Google it? I can't even pronounce it, let alone spell it."

"Jacqueline Barstow, I presume?" Adahy asked. "I do believe you are up to the task. However, if correct pronunciation and definitive meaning to something as trivial as my name befuddles you my dear, then life as an inept must be invigorating."

Whoa. Wasn't expecting that.

Adahy turned and wrote a name on the chalkboard. The name was John Rogers.

"Has anyone ever heard of this man before?" She turned to face the class, who simply stared back. I don't know about the rest of them, but I hadn't heard of this John...

"Excuse me Mrs. Shoemowetochawcawe." Came a familiar voice from the door. I recognized it almost immediately, yet I didn't dare hope it to be true. "My name is..."

Adahy turned her attention to the new student at the doorway. "I know exactly who you are Mr. Blackwood. Principle Girard informed me of your transfer this morning. Take a seat young man. Excellent pronunciation by the way."

"Thank you ma'am." Ethan made his way into the classroom. All eyes were on him as he quietly worked his way over to my direction, taking a seat next to me.

"I apologize for being late, Mrs. Shoemowetochawcawe; I kinda got a little turned around in the hallways here." Ethan professed.

"Nonsense, young man." Adahy stated. "This place is a labyrinth unto that of any Crete Minotaur."

Adahy turned her attention back to the class. "As I was saying. John Rogers. Have any of you heard of him?"

Nothing but silence from the student body.

"He's a writer." Ethan called out from his semi slump in his chair.

"Very astute, Mr. Blackwood." Adahy commended. "Your first day is looking to be quite noteworthy. Are you familiar with his work?"

Ethan shrugged. "Not really. Back in the day he wrote a script for some Vampire movie, but it got leaked on the net before the movie was green lit so they brought someone in to do a rewrite. Don't remember the name of it, but the original script was pretty banging."

"The name of the movie was Fledgling and the script was excellent. He was before his time on that one. He was also the show runner on the short-lived TV show entitled The Vampire Manifesto. Now the rest of you may be wondering why this man, this John Rogers, some hack writer none of you have heard of is important."

Adahy pulled out a stack of books. "Please take one and then pass the rest to your neighbor."

"What are you doing here?" I whispered to Ethan, trying to mask the excitement in my voice.

"Trying to get an education, what are you doing here?" He responded back coly.

"Smart ass! What are you doing in my English class?" I demanded. Just having him close to me set my mind aflame. The person situated directly in front of me plopped a book down on my desk. I barely glanced at the cover, it was nigh impossible to take my eyes off him.

Damn...

Ethan Blackwood looked me up and down slowly. "Why are you covered in paint?"

Adahy began walking down the rows of desks and chairs within the classroom. "The name of the book you just received is called Forgotten Future. It is written by none other than John Rogers himself. I will expect you to read it..."

"Is that all you expect?" A voice called out.

"Speaking while not being interrupted would be another, but no, that is not all I expect. You will read it and then produce a ten thousand word essay on the contents. You will have two weeks."

There was a noticeable groan from my classmates at the assignment.

"Well class, we could always go back to Mr. Jones original itinerary, which was the fifteen thousand word essay on War and Peace. Yet as delightful as that project sounds to you, just imagine the mass appeal resting on my shoulders in reading such awe-inspiring drivel in which I'm sure you'll try to pass off as an A plus grade essay."

I picked up the book again, gave it a quick thumb through. Just a little shy of two hundred pages. War and Peace was like what? Five bible stacks high? Yeah, I'm definitely not feeling that at all.

"So why Rogers." I asked. "What's so great about that guy? Why did you choose him?"

Adahy turned her eye towards me. "Because he's quite mad, I believe. The insane can have such delightful intelligence at times. Always more intriguing than your run of the mill, day to day, insert random name here person. You never know just what type of delusional escapade they're liable to get themselves into."

"Well that's cool and all, but you really didn't answer my question." I'm not completely sure why I said that.

The substitute teacher leaned up against Mr. Jones' desk. "Please, elaborate."

"Just because he's crazy, yeah, that's just describing his current mind state really, but has no impact on the actual assignment. In fact, the reason this dude is some kind of nutcase would in fact be detrimental, especially since we are deviating from Mr. Jones initial syllabus. In spite of the impending drivel that we would transcribe and you would inevitable have to grade, switching authors is not going to change our intellectual prowess. So why Rogers?"

"Intellectual prowess?" Adahy repeated. "I like you."

Ethan just shook his head.

"The reason I choose the John Rogers book, awesome tittle notwithstanding, is because he's here in Palm Coast, over at the Books a Million doing autograph signings all week. I met him yesterday, just on accident mind you, met him during a random encounter at the bookstore. We had a nice little conversation and yes, he is quite mad, or rather, eccentric would be the politically correct term."

"Rich people are eccentric, poor people are just crazy." A student three chairs down from me announced. "Crazy and broke."

"Clever observation." Adahy conceded. "But yes, we talked, much longer than I thought I would have allowed. Rogers is very convincing. Very charming. When the mouth of madness speaks, sometimes it's just to say hello, sometimes it's just to sing you a lullaby, sometimes it's just to ask directions. But by the time you stop to listen, it's already too late. You're dead. He said that to me during our conversation. Out the blue, random and completely off topic. Then he very causally got up and walked away. That's how our conversation ended. Intriguing man. That is why you are reading his book."

Adahy was looking at me intently, judging my reaction to her story. "Why are you covered in dried paint?" She asked finally.

The intercom blared to life: "Excuse the intrusion, Mrs. Shoemo...uh.."

"Is there something I can help you with?" Adahy was obviously annoyed at the interruption.

"Is Amber Rose in attendance today?" Came the static voice.

"Of course she is." Adahy narrowed her eyes in my direction

"Please have her report to Principle Girard immediately." The voice declared.

Ethan gave me an uneasy look. All I wanted to do was kiss him.

"She's on her way." Adahy gave a slight head nod towards the door.

I gathered up all my things, shoved them in my book bag, running my fingers across Ethan's back as I passed him. Once outside, I headed towards the Principles office. Just up ahead was some random student patrolling the hallways.

"Hall pass." He demanded.

I flipped him the middle finger and held it as I kept walking.

"Oh that's mature!" He yelled out, but I had already forgotten him by then.

Just static cling...

I wasn't exactly sure why they wanted me up at the principal's office; I'd never been there before. Ever. I don't get in trouble really, that was more Aiden's thing then mine. Not so much since him and Abigail hooked up, she really straightened him out on a lot of things, got him going down the right path again so to speak, although neither of them were angels.

I entered the Main Office, coming to a halt before a waist high counter top that separated the waiting area and the administration part of the building. It was stuffy in here, like the air hadn't been cut on yet, sweat visibly running down the side of the secretary's face.

"Principle Girard wanted to see me." I announced.

The secretary pointed to a clipboard on the counter. "Just sign in there and take a seat, she'll be with you shortly."

I grabbed the pen and signed my life away. "What's up with the air?" I asked. "It's hot in here."

The woman seemed almost distraught at the question. "It's not working for some reason. The Principle is trying to get them to come in sometime after lunch to get it fixed."

I glanced at the kid sitting next to me on the bench. He was asleep. Drool was oozing out the side of his mouth.

"And it smells like...ass in here." I whispered under my breath.

The secretary looked at the boy beside me. "I know baby, I know."

I wasn't sure how long I waited. Forty-five, maybe fifty minutes before a door behind the counter opened and Principle Girard leaned halfway out the archway.

"That Amber Rose kid here yet?" She called out. The Secretary motioned in my direction.

"ROSE! My office. NOW!" Principle Girard demanded. I could tell she was pissed. What I couldn't tell is if it was because of me or something else altogether.

The Principle ducked back into her office then immediately poked her head back out again. "Mrs. Greta, what is that smell?"

The Secretary scrunched her nose towards the kid sleeping next to me.

"Hey you!" Principle Girard yelled out. "WAKE UP!"

He didn't even budge. In fact, he actually snored louder.

"You've got to be kidding me? Amber Rose, wake him up." Principle Girard demanded.

I gave him a quick nudge to the ribs. "Dude, eyes front."

He came awake slowly, squinting his eyes as if the light was hurting him severely.

"Oh bloody hell." The kid exclaimed, rubbing his side, slipping the shades that were resting on his head down to his face.

"Hey, Mr. American Idol. First, sunglasses off." Yelled the Principle.

"But..."

"Save it for Dateline. Second, where are you coming from?" When the kid took off his shades, I could swear I saw his eyes go from white to completely bloodshot in seconds.

"Gym." He announced, squinting as he looked away from the sun.

"Well that explains the...aroma. Third, why are you here?"

"Well I..."

"Please do not insult my intelligence by lying." Principle Girard added.

The kid let out a sigh. "Cigarettes."

The Principle shook her head. "Your lungs, your cancer. But in the meantime, you've just volunteered yourself for the school bake sale this month AND the annual car wash next month..."

"Is that all?" He interrupted.

"What? Slow your roll boy and pump your brakes, I not done yet. AND you've just volunteered for concession stand duty for the next three home games AND..."

"Oh come on Principle Girard." The sullen boy cried out. At that precise moment, she gave him such a look of utter contempt, I had to fight back laughter.

"Are you staring at my boobs?"

The boy seemed flustered as he tried to garner a response.

"He was totally checking them out." I chimed in.

"Uh..."

"Please refrain from answering rhetorical questions Mr..." Principle Girard cut a look towards Greta.

"Horatio Venezuela Jr. Ma'am."

"...Mr. Horatio Venezuela Jr." The Principle continued without skipping a beat. "Well that's a mouthful. Venezuela. Son to Jasmine Venezuela. I do believe she runs the emergency room up in St. Augustine."

"Yeah, she does her trauma thing." Horatio admitted.

"She does her trauma thing. How eloquent." Stated the Principle. "I'm sure she would be very interested in knowing that her son was suspended for a month for smoking on campus."

This caught little Horatio Juniors attention. "Suspended?"

"Not to mention the fact, that if you were smoking, then you would have used a lighter, or matches, whatever your pleasure may be, but considering the fact that lighters and matches are on the list of forbidden contraband and classified as a weapon, I am well within my rights to contact the authorities..."

Horatio sat up in his chair. "Wait, you gonna call the Cops?"

"...to detain you until your mother can come down to the sheriff's station to pick you up, which should give me just enough time to fill out your expulsion papers for violating..."

"Hey, come on Principle, you...you're blowing things out of proportion right now." Horatio Jr. exclaimed.

"OR, you can just shut up, man up and volunteer where I tell you to volunteer and everybody is happy."

"I didn't know you were this ruthless." Muttered Horatio.

"Well now you know." Girard stated. "And knowing is half the battle. Go Joe. Now get out of my office."

Horatio Venezuela Jr. got up, slid his glasses back on his face and turned to leave, mumbling something inaudible under his breath.

"What was that?" Asked the Principle. "I didn't hear you."

Even with his sunglasses on, I could tell he was rolling his eyes. "Nothing, see you next Tuesday." He exclaimed before leaving.

"Amber Rose. My office." The Principle yelled.

Awesome. Thanks to Sir Douche-a-lot over there, now she's gonna take all her madness out on me. Perfect. I walked into her office and she closed the door behind me, taking her seat behind this big old school, nineteen fifties looking desk of hers. Very retro.

Principle Girard. Bright red hair, pretty, hard ass at times, pretty cool at others, wonder which one she was gonna be today. Hard ass or...

"So how was the beach yesterday?" Principle Girard asked.

Hard ass it is then.

"I don't know, I wasn't at the beach." I really am not in the mood to be suspended right now.

"Is that what you're going with?" She asked. "Really?"

"I wasn't at the beach Principle Girard; I don't know what you're talking about. I was sick. I wasn't feeling well."

"Because a little birdie told me, oh and by little birdie I mean Assistant Principle Woodrow, who specifically stated that he saw you and our new transfer student, Ethan what's his face..."

"Blackwood." I corrected without thinking.

"Oh." Girard acted somewhat surprised. "So you do know what I'm talking about?"

"No, it's just, he's in my English class is all."

"He's in all your classes Amber Rose."

"Oh. I didn't...I didn't know that." I had to stop myself from smiling.

Principle Girard gave me a questioning look. "I'm sure you didn't. Anyway, this birdie, aka Assistant Principle Woodrow, called me this morning, just to inform this administration about your truancy."

"I wasn't at the beach, I wasn't feeling well." I declared. "Maybe he got me confused with someone else."

"Apparently. Especially since I informed Mr. Woodrow that the only reason he was not here at work with me is because of the injury he procured during the last Pep Rally. I also stated that the Doctors assessment of his current situation was that he was to stay in bed and to keep off his foot for a week and if he was in fact at the beach where he reportedly saw you and Mr...Blackwood, then he was in direct violation of his own Doctors note and committing fraud against the School Board, considering the fact that he is on sick leave with pay AND receiving workman's compensation since the injury took place on company property." Explained Principle Girard.

"Oh." I wasn't sure how to respond to that.

"Needless to say, Mr. Woodrow set the record straight, informing me that he himself wasn't at the beach, but rather his wife and young daughter were and they told him what they saw and he felt it necessary to pass this knowledge to myself."

I thought about it for a moment. "How would his wife know what Ethan looked like? He just moved here."

"An excellent question Amber Rose. When I asked Mr. Woodrow that very same thing, he then explained that his wife could have been confused and more and likely it wasn't you that she saw at all and to disregard the matter in its entirety. He then got off the phone rather quickly."

There was a silence between us as neither spoke, waiting for the other to fill the empty void with their voice.

"So, Ethan's in every one of my classes?"

"Okay, we're done here." Principle Girard said quickly, shuffling the papers on her desk into a neat little pile.

"I can go?" I pointed towards the door with my thumb.

"Yes. You may leave."

I got up and opened the door behind me. "I'm going to need a..."

"Greta can sign your tardy slip." Finished the Principle. "Close the door behind you."

I did as she asked and got my tardy slip from Greta the secretary. She also gave me a small UPS package.

"I didn't wanna mention this before, you know students are not allowed to have mail come to the school, but this came for you earlier today." Greta said. "Figured I'd wait till you were on your way out, when Principle Girard wasn't around. No need to add trouble on top of trouble."

I took the package from her. "Thanks." I said. Then off I headed towards class.
Chapter 10

Could you please repeat that...

The box was no bigger than a PlayStation 3 video game box and there was no return address. I didn't even think UPS would deliver something without a return address.

The bell rung before I made it to class and the hallway filled up with students. I put the package in my book bag. It could wait until I got home; there were other pressing things on my mind at the moment.

I was lucky; I thought she had me for sure. She did have me, dead to rights, but she let it slide. It wasn't a secret that she and the Assistant Principle didn't get along. He could be such a conniving SOB at times, I rather think she was just trying to stick it to him then have me get caught up in the crossfire.

Either way, it was just one more thing that made me not wanna go to class, which, upon afterthought, was the exact opposite of how I should feel. I just wasn't in the mood right now. Not for teachers or schoolwork or having to lie to keep from being suspended. It was just too much for me. Honestly, after what happened last night, maybe it would have been better if I had stayed home.

He's in all your classes Amber Rose.

Now that made me feel just a little bit better. Ethan was in all my classes. I could see him every day now, but not just in passing, or after school, I mean like, every day. I hope I don't get bored with him, because that would suck.

"Hey, what's up?" Came that familiar voice from behind.

I turned around and there he was. Faded blue jeans, a crisp white t-shirt and a pair of all white Adidas shell tops.

"Hello Ethan."

"What was going on with that whole office thing?" He asked, taking my hand in his. I liked how he didn't even ask permission to do it, he just did.

"The more things change, the more they stay the same." I replied.

"Fair enough." We began to walk down the hallway together. "So where are you headed?"

I gave him a cross look. "Like you don't already know?"

"Um...if I already knew, what would be the purpose of me asking?"

"Principle Girard already told me you're in every one of my classes, Ethan."

That caused him to stop. "Really? Everyone?"

"Well yeah, I thought you already knew that?"

Ethan made a face. "How would I know that Madison?"

"I don't know, I just thought you would." I grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the front double doors that lead to the parking lot.

Ethan was full of friendly sarcasm. "I'm sorry; my crystal ball is in the shop."

"It is kinda awesome though." I admitted.

"And she said that? Really? All your classes?" He asked.

"I hope you're prepared buddy boy." I teased.

"It's not that, it's just..." Ethan let his sentence trail off.

"It's just what Mr. Blackwood?"

"Nah, it's nothing."

"Nope! Tell me, Ethan."

"It's just that, I don't know. Every class?" He suddenly got very serious. "I hope I don't get bored with you."

I rolled my eyes. "Shut up and come on boy." I continued to pull him towards the parking lot.

"Wait, where are we going?" He asked. "I mean, I know this is my first day, but isn't class like, on the other side of campus?"

"I'm not going to class, Ethan." I finally admitted. "I'm done for the day."

"You're cutting out already? Didn't you just come from the Principles office?" He asked.

"Your point being?"

"No point, just making an observation." He explained. "So where are we going?"

"We?" I asked. "Isn't this your first day?"

This time it was Ethan that was pulling me, taking the lead as we weaved through the parked cars. "Hardly." He announced.

We stopped in front of this beast of a motorcycle, all black chrome and leather madness. Ethan hopped on and then revved up the engine, the two exhaust pipes, on each side of the back tire flaring to life.

"This you?" I asked. I didn't take him as the motorcycle type at all. Didn't even think he had a car, let alone something like this.

"Harley Davidson Night Rod Special." Ethan called out over the roar.

I climbed on back. "What year?"

He just smiled. "Does it really matter?"

I wrapped my arms around his waist just as he peeled off. "Where to?" He asked again. This time, I had an answer for him.

"The bookstore, the one over by Target." I yelled in his ear.

"Just speak normal." He answered back. "I have very good hearing for someone my age."

I had never been on a motorcycle before, let alone without a helmet. The scenery just seemed to whizz past so quick and the rush of it all, damn, it was just exhilarating.

"You mean that place Mrs. Shoemowetochawcawe was talking about? Where she met that crazy dude at?" He asked.

"Yeah, that's the place." I replied. "You know the spot?"

He responded by increasing the throttle, a blast of speed and adrenaline mixed together in a steel-aluminum shot glass frame, meant to be swallowed whole with no chaser. He was reckless, weaving through traffic, passing cars so close that there was only a hairs breath between us, decreasing speed suddenly so he could whip through the middle of two vehicles, only to speed up as the light turned yellow.

In all my life, I never felt safer.

It didn't take long before we were where we wanted to be, pulling up in a handicap parking space so fast that the Night Rod did a front endo when it came to a stop. I climbed off, my legs still vibrating somewhat. Ethan climbed down like it was nothing.

I pointed towards the white and blue sign. "You can't park here, it's a handicapped spot."

"Oh, I almost forgot." He mumbled, pulling out a small plastic handicapped sign from his back pocket, hanging it off the chrome steering. When he turned around, I just shook my head.

"What?" He exclaimed. "Grandma has like ten of them, she's not gonna miss one."

He put his arm around me as we headed towards Books-a-Million. A large, intricately decorated sign in the window read: Come meet John Rogers, Author of the bestselling novel, Forgotten Future.

"Guess this is the right place." Ethan announced.

It wasn't as crowded as I thought it would be once we got inside, then again, it was also in the middle of a work day, so considering those factors, it was more than expected.

"So what's the deal?" Ethan Blackwood asked. "Why the sudden interest in some author you've never heard of before today."

It was an honest question, one I hadn't really pondered until it was asked. Honestly, there wasn't anything special about this dude or his book. I'd never read any of his work before and I doubt if I would even read his book for the assignment.

"I'm not sure." I admitted. "It's just something about the way Adahy described him, I don't know, he just seems interesting."

"I've only read the one script." Ethan admitted.

That's when I saw him, sitting at a little table towards the back. He didn't look how I imaged him in my mind, which oddly enough was a good thing. He was in his late twenties, early thirties, black shoulder length hair, scruffy five o'clock shadow, kinda reminded me of Jude Law a little.

The line for autographs wasn't that long, I figured a five, maybe ten-minute wait at the longest. Not that...

Wait...

No, it can't be.

I turned to Ethan. "Hey, can you grab me something to drink from that little coffee spot thingy over there please?"

"Sure. Anything you want in particular?" He asked.

"Um...something sweet and chocolate with lots of caffeinated goodness." I said.

Ethan kissed me suddenly, like, really kissed me. "Be right back." He whispered in my ear before heading off.

"Oh and with caramel!" I screamed out after him. I licked my lips. His tongue tasted like lemonade pixie sticks.

But that was just static cling.

There was something more important than sugar coated kisses on my mind at the moment. I headed towards the opposite direction, moving in between the aisles, scanning them thoroughly before moving to the next. Each one came up empty. Every one of them filled with nondescript people doing very nondescript things. Maybe it was just a trick of the lighting. Maybe it was my mind playing...

"Looking for something in particular?"

That voice. I could be half-blind, half-deaf and on my death bed and I'd still recognize that voice. I'd remember it always and forever, just like the song. I turned around and there he was, leaning against a bookshelf, dressed in all black, despite the Florida heat. Those grey eyes with tiny flecks of amber, just like my name, staring at me with an intensity that has never been matched, not even by Ethan.

My black haired savior.

"You know, one might not think that you were a stalker per say and yet, you do exhibit stalker like behavior." He mused.

And just like that, the new car smell was gone. "Hey, you're the one that's following me."

"Really?" He laughed. "So I'm the one scouring each aisle, examining it from top to bottom before moving on to the next, searching for what exactly? Oh that's right, me."

He was smug and I could tell he was enjoying himself quite well. "So you gonna tell me your name this time or are you just gonna do your ninja thing and vanish."

"Quite the inquisitive one aren't we? You do know what happened with curiosity don't you?"

"Yeah, he became President." I stated. "So what's your deal, who are you?"

"Connor. That's what they call me." He smiled and when he did the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end.

"That's what they call you?" I questioned. "So that's not your real name then?"

"Never tell anyone your real name." He came closer, stopping less than one arms distance away. "There's power hidden behind a name, but you already know that, don't you, Madison?"

He came even closer. I took an involuntary step away.

"Everyone has always called me Madison." I exclaimed. "Ever since I was little."

"So that's not your real name either?" He countered. "It is what it is. The last I remember, you were bleeding in the street."

"Yeah, I wanted...I just wanted to thank you for helping me out the way you did." I was getting butterflies in my stomach, the good kind you know, yet I was scared as hell.

"You already have." Connor said.

"So, you just like hanging out in book stores?" Awesome come back line Madison. Just awe-inspiring...

"I'm just..." Connor paused briefly. "Doing a little research I suppose."

"On what?" I asked.

"The newly introduced criminal element."

"Really? There a lot of, uh..." I glanced at the book he was keeping tight to the chest, reading the title across the front cover. "...Mythological Creatures in Urban Society running around the mean streets of Palm Coast?"

"You'd be surprised." He came closer. This time I didn't back away. We were only inches from each other.

Within kissing distance.

"You could just shoot them in the leg. I hear that works these days." I said.

"We should only be so lucky. Speaking of which, you're still not riding around with that gun in the trunk are you?"

I had forgotten all about that thing.

"Uh...yeah, kinda. It makes me feel safe." I lied.

"You do understand that in all likelihood, it's a murder weapon. I'm sure he probably killed somebody, somewhere with it. Or if not that, it must have some trace to some random crime. If you get pulled over by the Cops, you might inadvertently link yourself to it."

"I told you, it makes me feel safe."

"You're lying." Connors pupils dilated somewhat, the flecks of amber glowing brighter than before. "Tell me why you're so interested in me."

"Because you saved my life and I think you're extremely hot, although not as hot as my boyfriend. You also scare the hell out of me and my best friend thinks you're a vengeful spirit or something like that, but sometimes, all I think about is you. You're also standing way to close for a casual conversation and its making me feel extremely uncomfortable and awkward, but in a good way. I like it."

Whoa Madison, what in the hell was that?

Connor moved even closer, so close I could feel his lips brush against my ear and as he spoke, I closed my eyes and inhaled sharply.

"What are you doing later this evening?" Connor asked. His breath smelled like cinnamon sticks. "Would you like to hang out with me?"

"Uh...sure." I couldn't manage anything else. My heart was beating so fast, I could hear it thundering in my chest. His voice sent electrical currents down my spine and I was frozen in place unable to move.

"You okay baby?"

My eyes snapped open, but Connor was gone, nowhere in sight. Instead, I found Ethan standing in front of me, waiting patiently for me to grab my coffee.

"Um, yeah. I'm fine, it's just..." I glanced around, but I couldn't see Connor anywhere.

"It's just what?" Ethan was drinking a very large Frappuccino with lots of whipped cream.

"It's just static cling is all." I took my drink from him and took a sip. It was a Caramel Macchiato and it was delicious.

Ethan seemed overly eager. "Come on; let's go grab a spot."

We waited in the back of the line, which had become obscenely longer since the first time we entered the book store. Ethan was beside me, holding my hand while sipping his Frappuccino. Sometime between now and when he first went to get us drinks, his enthusiasm level about getting an autograph spiked exponentially.

"You know that screenplay I read back in the day, I didn't know it was a book first." He announced.

"What screenplay?" I blurted out. I was having a hard time concentrating, the after effects of Connor still present in my system like a drug.

"The Vampire one, Fledgling."

I rolled my eyes. "Love the title. Very Original."

Ethan squeezed my hand. "Nah, it was actually pretty good. Time travel. Alternate dimensions. I was impressed." Ethan produced two books from underneath his arm. "So I'm getting the Fledgling one and he had another called Ambrosia. I don't know, I've never heard of that one, but the cover looked pretty cool so..."

He was still talking, but my mind was elsewhere. It's just that he was here, my dark haired savior, my Connor. It was so strange seeing him again and being able to talk without the threat of physical violence lingering in the atmosphere. He was just as mysterious as before, the unnatural state of being that is Connor overwhelming my senses, so strong that it even blocked out thoughts of Ethan in the process.

He was just as unnerving now as when we first met. Every fiber in my being was telling me to run, yet the echo of him left in my mind's eye whispered for me to come closer to the flame until my fingers burned from the heat.

He wanted to see me again. Tonight. I wanted too of course. Already told him I would, yet an undying urge to stay away from him was hard to ignore. He was even more of an enigma now that we had spoken, the mysticism that I had built up around him in my mind only amplified by the magnitude of his persona.

Oddly enough, he was still a jerk, yet it was difficult to tell if it was just false bravado put forth by an overly compensating Y chromosome or if asshole was just a part of his genetic makeup as a whole. Regardless, my gut feeling, my internal instinct to just run in the opposite direction when in his presence overruled all.

And what was up with that round of Truth or Truth? I have no idea why I would tell him those things. It was like my mouth was a facet and my leaky brain just kept flowing words out of it.

I looked up at Ethan, he was still rambling on about John Rogers and it was clearly obvious to me that he hadn't realized that I had stopped paying attention a long time ago. Yet just the sight of him was enough to banish thoughts of Connor to the recesses of my mind. I didn't need more then Ethan. I didn't need to know Connor anymore then I already did.

He saved my life and for that, I am eternally grateful, however that doesn't mean he can become a part of my life as well. There was room for only so many mysterious men and Ethan Blackwood had already filled that quota and then some.

There was a commotion at the beginning of the line, loud enough that it even caused Ethan to stop his ramblings and take notice. It was from a woman who was increasingly becoming louder in her conversation with the author.

"What do you mean you're done signing autographs for the day?" She was very volatile.

"Just as it sounds my dear, I would have thought the sentence self-explanatory." Rogers was calm in his demeanor, yet even from this vantage point, I could tell his attention was elsewhere.

"I've been waiting in this line for like, fifteen, twenty minutes." She yelled.

"Then it was time well spent." Rogers replied.

"Not if I don't get an autograph, it isn't." There was a resounding agreement from the patrons that stood directly behind her as well.

"Any day above ground is time well spent." Rogers wasn't even bothering to look at her anymore, instead his attention was drawn towards something behind Ethan and myself.

"How 'bout I don't buy any more of your books, how 'bout that?" The woman was very adamant about her perspective boycott of all things John Rogers.

The author just shrugged. "Do what you have to, I'm rich, bitch. I'm still spending '88 money. I been spending hundreds since they had small faces."

With that, John Rogers removed himself not only from the conversation as a whole, but from the overall vicinity as well, pushing himself away from the table and heading towards the exit. He stopped in front of me, taking in the full measure of both myself and Ethan Blackwood.

"Excuse me, but are either of you busy for the next, oh...say, twenty five, thirty minutes?"

"Not really." Ethan answered.

"Well humor an old chap and have lunch with a fellow. My treat."

I thought Ethan was gonna crap himself, he was so excited. "Hell yeah. Just let me run up to the register real quick and..."

John Rogers snatched up the two books Ethan was planning on buying, adjusting his glasses to read the tittles. "Hmm...Ambrosia and Fledgling. Good choices. A fan of deviant prophecy I take it?"

"Uh..." Ethan stuttered.

"But of course you are, but these..." Rogers tossed them unceremoniously over his shoulder. "...Poppycock, my dear fellow. Just paperback nonsense edited down for mass public consumption. I have better. Hard back and leather bound, with more details in the prophetic conversion of the Forgotten Future."

"Wow." Ethan was ecstatic.

"Plus I'll give them to you, free of charge. Come, follow me, the yellow brick road awaits." John Rogers hustled out of the bookstore, arm draped around Ethan's shoulder. I followed behind them, feeling somewhat like a third wheel.
Chapter 11

A meeting of minds...

I hesitated once I reached the front door, scanning the store one last time, a fleeting desire to see Connor again before I left, yet it was futile. He was long gone.

"Come on Madison, we're going to the Red Lobster!"

I cut them both a sly look. "We're going to the Olive Garden."

"A woman who takes charge. You gotta love those." John Rogers seemed harmless in that odd senile kind of way. I could see what Adahy saw in him. There was no doubt about it, John did possess his own personal swagger and when he spoke, nonsense as it may seem, he did exhibit a sort of animal attraction one found difficult to turn away from.

The Olive Garden was a short walk away, located in the same shopping center as Books-A-Million and once we entered, it didn't take us long to get our seats. The server came and took our order, Rogers being very vocal about the check coming to him and him only. There was a slight awkward silence at first, that is, until the server returned with our drinks.

Grape soda for me, Dr. Pepper for Ethan and a Long Island Ice-Tea for Rogers. He nodded approvingly when the server appeared with the drinks, handing her an old school, two-dollar bill as a tip, then literally shooing her away before draining half his glass in three gigantic gulps.

"Forgive me, I don't think we've been properly introduced as of yet. I'm sure we know each other's names, or at least I am aware of both yours and his, while my own was plastered across that God awful, gaudy, bulletin crapfest; however that should not displace the advent of manners all together."

"I am Jonathan Rogers, though that be a pseudonym at best, poor intellectualism at worst. I am a writer of no small pedigree, my works, though not blazoned into the common, everyday psyche, do fairly decent. I am also in possession of one of the most amazing literary agents the universe has ever given birth too, so I'm lucky in that respect and as such, monetary value means almost nothing to me."

Money means nothing. Must be nice...

"Well I'm Ethan Blackwood." I'm so glad he decided to go before me. "And I just moved here."

"Really?" Rogers leaned forward, fully enraptured. "Where from Mr. Blackwood?"

Now this perked my interest as well, considering Ethan is very nondisclosure agreement when it comes to himself.

He seemed to fidget in his seat a little. "I'm...not from this country." Ethan didn't elaborate any further.

Rogers could sense Ethan's trepidation about his past. "Don't worry son, we're all foreigners here. Do you think this universe originally belonged to us to begin with?"

"I guess that just leaves me." Sure, I could play along. Just listening to Rogers off the cuff comments was worth the price of admission.

"I'm Madison Rose. I just moved here as well."

"Interesting." John had finished his drink and was snapping his fingers in the air to gain the servers attention. Once he had it, he simply pointed towards his glass. "The both of you, newlyweds to the city of Palm Coast. Did know each other before coming to Florida?"

"Nope. I saw her at the beach the other day and just had to stop." Ethan was glowing as he spoke.

"Just had to, you say?" The server appeared and replaced Johns Long Island Ice-Tea with a fresh one. "One might just call that providence."

"I don't believe in fate." I think I'm starting to like this John Rogers.

"That's okay Madison, it's perfectly clear that he believes in you." John held out his hand, palm down, placing it in the middle of the table. "Tell me what you see."

"Ethan cocked a singular eyebrow. "Uh...your hand?" He leaned forward quite a bit. "And a really kick ass Green Lantern ring."

"But is that it? Is that all you see?" Rogers was studying his face intensely, waiting for a response.

Ethan took a sip of his soda then leaned back. "If this is some type of pop quiz, I'm sure I failed."

"There is a grading curve that is well beyond your realm of comprehension my boy, but you..." Rogers turned his hand towards me. "You, I'm very sure of. Very sure indeed. Tell me what you see."

It was strange. John Rogers was bizarre. My eyes cut towards Ethan for a moment then back towards this dude's hand. I mean, it was just like Ethan said. Other than that ring, which really was kinda kick ass, must be a movie prop or something, but other than that, it was just nothing there. Nothing of any note that is.

And yet...

It was almost like there was something visible and yet there wasn't. I had to unfocus my eyes until I was seeing doubles and only as the two images began to merge together into one was it partially visible. It was some type of tattoo in azure ink. Very faint, but it was still there nonetheless. It appeared to be some type of equation, yet it was hard to make the numbers out. They seemed to...fluctuate is the best word I can use to describe it.

"What is that, a math problem?" I asked. "It kinda reminds me of, I don't know, an algebraic equation or something."

"It's a Chaos Equation to be more specific." John seemed like he just found the winning lottery ticket.

"A Chaos Equation? What's a Chaos Equation?" Things were starting to get peculiar. "And why am I the only one that can see it?"

"See what?" Ethan leaned forward again, this time literally grabbing Johns hand and pulling it extremely close to his face. "There's nothing there other than this mole. I don't see anything else. You really might wanna get that checked out too."

John pulled his hand away from Ethan's grasp. "That mole is of no concern to you."

I sighed. "Jesus, you two are like the odd couple. Why can't Ethan see the tattoo John?"

"Because, he isn't supposed to, my good woman." He took another sip of his drink. "At least not yet, he isn't. The ink is bonded to my quantum signature. The Chaos Equation is in a state of flux, constantly changing, realigning my body's dimensional frequency ever so much. Not enough to elicit a Quantum Parallel-Shift into another dimension mind you, but enough so that I'm more in tuned to specific... reality altering events as they take place."

"That sounded really cool and all, but it made absolutely no sense to me what so ever." I can see why this guy's books sold so well. If he could write eloquently, just half of what he just said, nerds everywhere would have a nerdgasim in their nerd pants.

"I understood it." Both John and I looked at Ethan skeptically. "Hey, I didn't say I believe the man, but I've read enough Grant Morrison and watched enough Star Trek to understand String Theory."

The server came with our food, placing each of the plates down in front of us, before disappearing. As soon as she left, everyone passed their plates to the right until we had our correct order in front of us.

"Don't even play yourself Ethan. You do not understand String Theory. I don't even understand String Theory. I don't even know what Sting Theory is, but I know it's not what he just said."

Ethan took a bite out of his burger. "What the man is saying is that he got himself a tattoo that attracts him to crazy shit."

"How is that even remotely close to String Theory?" I asked.

"It's not." Ethan replied with a mouth full of food. "I'm just using that as an analogy."

"An analogy of what?"

"I don't know." Ethan washed down his burger with some Dr. Pepper. "So what's up with the invisible ink tattoo John?"

"It's not invisible." I countered. "I can see it. I mean, it's difficult for me to make out, it hurts my eyes when I look at it, but it's there."

Ethan rolled his eyes. "Let the man speak."

John didn't reply, simply gazing at the two of us without discretion. "Amazing."

"What's that John?" Ethan had just shoved a handful of fries in his mouth. "I know I'm awesome and all, but..."

"The Mark of Pandora blazes bright amongst the two of you. Brightest with young Madison here, but still..." John seemed flabbergasted.

"I've never witnessed such an event of this magnitude before. It was just utter randomness that I was doing a signing in this city at all. Engine trouble on my way to Orlando yesterday. The mechanic said the new part wouldn't arrive until tomorrow. That's how I ended up here in Palm Coast."

"My agent decided to contract the Books-A-Million signing just on a whim. Just to past the time. In my entire life, I've never seen one. I've only read about them or heard about them from questionable, second hand sources, yet today, within the span of an hour, I've come across three individuals that bare the Mark of Pandora. Do you have any idea of the significance behind a cosmic event such as this?"

"You lost me at hello, buddy." I took a bite of my Spinach Alfredo.

"Yes, of course I did, of course I did." John Rogers mumbled. "Here, let me explain. You see, there are seven distinct dimensions that hold the everything of everything."

This guy was certifiable, of this there was no question. His particular brand of crazy was just oozing off him in waves right now. Yet the way he spoke, his enthusiasm, it was just...you know...I don't even know what it was, but he had my attention.

John motioned to the world in a wide sweeping arc of his hands. "Everything here, all of this, everywhere, the Earth, the planets beyond, the sun, the galaxy, the universe, all of this and everything that it entails, is located in just one dimension. You, me, him, her, them, they, area 51, the pyramids, that new Mercedes coup, that fork you're eating with, this drink, which is utterly lacking the correct amount of alcohol, those clouds, the aliens that live on whatever world we have yet to discover, all of this, everywhere, it all exists in just one dimension."

"And within that one dimension are six hundred and sixty-six different realities that coexist all at once, overlapping each other constantly, invisible to the naked eye, yet here nonetheless."

"Six hundred and sixty-six? Isn't that the Mark of the Beast?" Ethan had stopped eating, intent on the conversation.

"I suppose." John admitted. "I don't know really, maybe it's just symbolic, maybe it's not. More than likely that specific number of realties existed before the Beast. Or it could be just as well that the Beast existed before the separation of realities and that number is his fingerprint on existence itself. Or maybe there is no Beast at all and the whole of it comes from the power of imagination and Mankind's overwhelming need to place symbolism on everything it comes into contact with."

I stopped eating, pausing mid forkful. "Wait, so you're saying that you see the Mark of the Beast on us?"

"No, no, young Madison, it is the Mark of Pandora that has enraptured your very essence of being."

I was confused and yet I wasn't. "So, when you say six hundred and sixty-six, realities, you're talking about, what, parallel Earths or something?"

"Parallel lives, parallel Earths, parallel galaxies, parallel everything." He explained. "In this dimension, there are six hundred and sixty-six different Madison's that exist simultaneously, unaware of the other six hundred and sixty-five."

"How is that even possible John?"

"String Theory." Ethan chimed in.

"Shut up, dude." That may have come of a little more sarcastic then intended.

Ethan resumed eating. "I'm just saying..."

"No, no, he is somewhat correct." John said. "In your life, there are a number of decisions that drastically change your future. I call them a Nexus in time, because when you remember them, it's always what life was before and what life is after that decision is made."

"Didn't Captain Kirk meet Captain Picard in the Nexus?" Ethan asked.

"Yes he did. Different kind of Nexus however. The one with the Borg was a much better movie though." John replied.

"A Nexus in time." I repeated softly.

"Take myself for example." Rogers stated. "Today would be a Nexus in time for me. The day I came across three people with the Mark of Pandora. Something elaborately cosmic is about to happen, the Forgotten Future is about to be rewritten and this place, today, for me, this is where it all begins."

"Wait, you said three right? Three different people?" Ethan asked.

"Yes, three people."

"Well if me and Madison make two, who's the third?"

"A rather frightening young lad. I had a meeting with him just before I saw you. He had some questions about one of the books I had written decades ago." John said.

Something inside of me clicked just then, a wave of deja vu so strong it was almost overwhelming. "Mythological Creatures in Urban Society." I said.

John was mildly surprised. "Why yes, that's the one. It was one of the first books I'd ever written after being branded with the Chaos Equation and the world beneath the veil opened up to me. All of a sudden, there was this young chap today, strange bedfellow that one, very eerie he was, claimed to have met me twenty some years ago, which means, for me at least, that it hasn't happened yet. Said his name was..."

"Connor." I finished his sentence like it was my own.

"You know him then? You know the gentleman of whom I speak?"

"I met him the same day I met Ethan." I admitted. "He...he saved my life that night."

"I see." The look on John Rogers face became suddenly grave. "Then it's already begun..."

"Wait, is that the dude's name? Connor? The guy from the other night?" Ethan asked.

"So you both know him." Rogers did not phrase that as a question, nor did he direct his statement towards either Ethan or myself.

"Yeah, well no, well, kinda..." Fumbled Ethan. "I've never met the guy personally but..." Ethan brought the conversation back to me. "He was here, today, at the book store? You talked to him?"

"Yeah." I admitted.

"And you didn't tell me?"

"It's wasn't a big deal, is all. I didn't think it was important." I lied. I'm doing an awfully lot of lying today.

"Not important?" Ethan seemed like he was getting upset. "The guy saves your life, runs off just before I show up and you randomly bump into him at the book store and it's not a big deal?"

"No. Not really." I think we're having our first fight. It would almost be cute.

Almost...

"If that isn't a big deal, then I don't know what is. What did he say?"

I turned to John. "So one dimension, six hundred and sixty-six realities. How does the Mark of Pandora factor into all of this?"

"Right." John said. "Of course. So there are seven different known dimensions in total. And I say known, because, well, that's what we know for fact. There could be more, but we haven't been able to pinpoint them."

"Who is this we you're referring to?" I asked.

"Not important." He said. "Just follow along. Seven dimensions. Each dimension contains six hundred and sixty-six different realities respectively. That's four thousand, six hundred and sixty-two realities in total. Some strikingly similar, to the point that they are almost identical, others so far on the other end of the spectrum that it could be incomprehensible to the human psyche."

"Now there are some things, certain emotions, sentient items, Omega Level Beings, they exist simultaneously across all four thousand, six hundred and sixty-two realities and are self-aware of each separate version of themselves, to the point that they are of one mind, body and soul, spread out over the entire multiverse. The Gods if you will, along with certain self-aware things that the Gods create."

"Now, you and I, we can leave here, get hit by a car and die. That marks the end of our existence in this reality. In another reality, someone might push us out the way and the car doesn't hit us and we're still alive. But in this reality, that person who would have saved our life, they might have misplaced their keys last night and the extra two minutes it took to find them this morning, put them two minutes behind for the rest of the day, which in turn, makes them two minutes to late in saving our lives and thus, we are dead. That is how alternate realities work."

"That's crazy." Ethan said.

"Yes it is, isn't it?" Rogers agreed.

"Now these Omega Level Beings, these Gods, they cannot die like you and I. They are immortal, yet only in the sense that whereas, one singular version of myself in any given reality, can die at even given time, every version of them, across every version of reality, across all seven dimensions, must die all at once, simultaneously if you will."

"Do you know the odds it would take for something like that to happen?" Asked Ethan.

"Exactly." Rogers said. "Which is why the Boxes of Pandora were created."

"Wait a minute, did you say boxes?" I interjected. "I've heard the story of Pandora's Box, it held all the worlds evils and what not, but there was only one of them, only one box."

The author disagreed. "That story only spoke of one Box my dear, but there are others. Spread out across time and space. They cannot be destroyed. They cannot be broken into. They cannot be broken out of. They are immortal and they can only be opened by the exact same person, across all realities, in every dimension, at the same exact same time, in the exact same fashion. They were created to contain Omega level entities that could create Omega level events. Things that are just too dangerous to roam free, but in essence are impossible to kill."

"Dude, that's just crazy insane." I said.

"Yes it is. But that doesn't make it any less true."

"Even if one of these Boxes of Pandora existed, which they don't, you wouldn't be able to open one of these things. It's impossible." Argued Ethan

"They do exist and they can be opened, dear boy. Even a broken clock is correct twice a day."

"Fine. Hypothetically then." Ethan began.

"There is nothing hypothetical about anything I am telling you." Rogers proclaimed. "You both bare the Mark of Pandora. I can see its blueprints on you now, even as we speak; its signature is unmistakable once you know what to look for. Like you said, I'm the one with the tattoo that attracts me to crazy shit and this by far ranks as the craziest. Out of the three of you I met today, one of you will open a Box, while the other two will help facilitate its opening."

"How can you tell?" I asked. "How can you tell which one will do the opening and which one will do the helping?"

"Only those that Fate deems worthy." John replied.

"What's the criteria? How is one deemed worthy by Fate?"

"You have to beat Death at its own game. Only the resurrected can open a Box of Pandora."

"The resurrected." I repeated to myself.

"You've got to die first?" Ethan asked.

"Then come back to life, but yes, you would have to die first." John Rogers said, looking at the both of us. "You cannot have the one without the other. There is no resurrection without death."

"Well that counts me out." Laughed Ethan. "I haven't..."

"I've died once." I whispered.

"Is that so?" Rogers stroked his beard. "Please, do tell."

"It was a car accident. Happened just before we moved here." I took Johns Long Island and drained the glass dry. "They said I was dead for over fifteen minutes."

"That's a long time." Ethan commented.

"Yeah, so I've been told." I closed my eyes, running my fingers through my hair and down my neck. "Aiden was driving. There was a deer. He lost control. A good friend of ours died. I died. I came back. He didn't."

"At the party that night, when Aiden asked for the keys..." Ethan was starting to put everything together.

"Yeah, he isn't allowed to drive anymore. Not by law or anything like that, the Cops confirmed that it wasn't his fault, but Mom; she banned him from driving, at least for as long as he still lives at home. That's why it was so odd that they gave him the keys to begin with."

"I'm sorry about your companion." John Rogers said suddenly. "I can see you still carry the pain of his death with you, it's a part of you now."

"I don't wanna talk about it. What time is it?" I glanced at my watch and then realized I wasn't wearing one. "It doesn't matter, I'm ready to go. I just wanna go home. Ethan?"

"Yeah, it's cool, let's roll." Ethan stood, holding out his hand to John. "Sir, it was awesome to meet you."

The author stood as well, gripping Ethan's palm with a sturdy hand shake. "It's been a pleasure."

"Madam." He took my hand and kissed it, very Casablanca like. It was cute. "Wait, before you leave, a promise is a promise."

John reached into is satchel, digging through the contents before producing two worn, antique looking, leather bound books. He opened one of them and scribbled something inside before handing them to Ethan.

"Ambrosia and Fledging." The author said. "I've included my personal contact number as well. If you need me or have questions about anything, anything at all, do not hesitate to call."

Ethan took the books from him, flipping through the pages of one manuscript, before he started to grin from ear to ear. "Oh, these are nice! Thanks man."

I went to leave when John grabbed me by the arm suddenly, his tone deathly serious. "Beware the Forgotten Future for it is about to be rewritten and you my dear, you could very well be its new author. Heed my warning, young woman. The both of you. You may think me a foolish old man, but you both bare the Mark of Pandora. The world as you know it is to change. Prepare for the quiet storm, least you get swept away once the maelstrom arrives."

John walked off and exited the restaurant without uttering another word.

I looked at Ethan. "Did he just leave without paying the bill?"

"I don't know, but I'm not staying here to find out." Ethan took off towards the exit. Before I knew it, he was already in the parking lot. I just shook my head and followed after him.
Chapter 12

Something simple...

The ride back to school was amazing. I held on to Ethan for dear life and he cranked up the Night Rod Special to heart attack inducing speeds, swerving in and out of traffic like that's just how it's supposed to be done. I loved every minute of it. The sad thing about how fast we were going was that we ended up at school a lot sooner than I had wanted.

I think I might be turning into a speed junkie.

Class was still in session, but I was the only one with the keys to the car. I had no intention on staying, however, that was utterly out of the question. I was tired, extremely tired in fact, considering I never went to sleep last night and all I wanted to do was crawl into my bed and take a nap. That was the plan at least.

First, I needed to find Abigail so I could give her keys to the car. I could've had Ethan drop me off at the house and had him give the keys to her, but I didn't consider that an option. I wanted to spend more time with him. Plus, I wanted to ride that bike of his again. The hum of the engine between my thighs was very interesting.

I found Abigail at gym class, running around the track. She was killer in anything under three miles, which she could make in less than sixteen minutes easy. I posted up against the fence, watching her do her thing, while Ethan had disappeared somewhere behind the bleachers to smoke a cigarette and to check out those books that John gave him.

John freaking Rogers.

That dude, I don't even know where to begin.

The things he said, they were just so left stratosphere. You have your government conspiracy theorist, you had your alien conspiracy theorist and then you had John Rogers speaking that educated madness so proficiently that when he was done, you really would think two plus two equals three.

The Mark of Pandora. Alternate realities. The Seventh dimension. Gods that exist across the Bleed of Creation. It was asinine, ludicrousness to the second power. Ethan just ate it all up. I'm not sure if I believed anything the guy said, but...

He knew Connor though.

"Hey girl, what's up?" Abigail had completed her run, coming to a stop at the fence. "What are you doing here?"

I dug into my pocket. "I'm done for the day, about to head home. Wanted to leave you the keys to The Rolling Stone."

"Yeah, cool." She looked worried. I could tell she still wanted to talk about what happened to me, but I wasn't in the mood for all that right now. All I wanted was my bed, some ice cream and some Twizzlers. Not in that exact order however.

She took the keys from me. "How are you getting home?"

"Ethan Blackwood."

It took a second for Abigail to process. "Oh God Madison, you slut, you just met him like, yesterday."

"What? No, were not gonna do that, he's just gonna drop me off." I laughed.

"Yeah, okay, just use protection."

"God you're such a perv." I proclaimed. "Get your mind out the gutter."

"Get your vagina out the gutter." She fired back.

"Whatever. I'm out." I love that girl. "You stopping by afterwards?"

"And you know this, maaan! My Mom thinks I'm gonna be working at the restaurant tonight, slaving away at some grill. I keep trying to tell her I'm too pretty for menial labor."

I gave her a high five. "Damn straight. You and me both. I'll check you tonight."

"Later alligator."

"After while, crocodile."

I walked off, heading towards Ethan who had posted himself up on one of the bleachers. He was smoking a Newport, quietly reading one of the books that Rogers gave him. "You ready to Rock and Roll?"

Ethan looked up. "Listen to this." He said. "I am premeditated paradox waiting to happen. I ride the singular point of the present until the future is past tense. When your future is another man's past, yet the memory for it no longer exists, the prophecy of the Forgotten Future will be complete. Does anyone remember tomorrow?"

I just stared at him, a blank expression on my face. "You and my brother would get along just fine."

"I'm sure we would." He stood to his feet. "Did you find your girl?"

"Yeah, everything is cool."

"Come on then, I'll be sure to go a little slower this time. Sorry if I freaked you out, I know it's your first time on a bike."

"If I wanted to take it slow, trust me, you'd know it by now."

In an instant, I was back on the bike again, racing towards my house, the wind in my face. I held Ethan close, my face resting against the back of his shoulder, my eyes closed. I could still fill the world whip past me even though I didn't see it. I could still process the speed, like closing your eyes on a roller coaster. Well nothing that dramatic, but it was close enough for me. I hate roller coasters, but this, well, this was something entirely different.

We turned on my street when Ethan called out to me. "Hang on tight, okay."

I opened my eyes. "Okay."

"You ready?"

"Yeah." I said.

Ethan hit the throttle and raced down the block, popping a wheelie as he did. We rode like that the rest of the way down the street before coming to a stop at my driveway. I had to admit, the wheelie thing kinda freaked me out a little. I wasn't prepared for it. I'd never let him know it though. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

I hopped off the back, while Ethan stayed on, keeping the engine running. The way he was sitting, the all black bike, the haircut, he reminded me of a young James Dean.

Dream as if you'd live forever, live as if you'd die today.

"What are you up to tonight?" I asked.

"Same old, same old. What's up?"

"Wanna go bowling?"

"Bowling?"

"Hey, there really ain't a lot to do here in Palm Coast, okay."

"I'd do anything with you."

I placed my arm around his neck. "Careful Mr. Blackwood, bowling is considered a gateway sport."

"So I've heard. Next thing you know, we'll be playing darts."

"Call me." I gave him another kiss then headed up the driveway.

"No doubt." Ethan peeled off, disappearing down the street.

The first thing I did once inside was grab one of my Dad's beers from the fridge, twisting off the top with my forearm, a little trick I learned last year from Aiden. The beer was ice cold and delicious. I had never heard of the brand before, Dad was always buying beer from his past. I think this one is some type of Asian brand. I wish he would buy more Coronas.

Speaking of which, I pulled out the cell and tried his number. Straight to voicemail. I tried Mom's number, but it just rang before the voicemail kicked in. I put the cell back in my pocket, forgoing leaving a message. I was really tired and it was all starting to catch up with me, so I downed the rest of the beer as quick as I could then headed upstairs, collapsing on my bed, falling asleep almost immediately.
Chapter 13

The other me...

It was the dream again, just as vivid as before and yet, it was as if I was watching it take place, my Dreamself preparing to battle the nine Vampiric combatants that surrounded her/me. I or rather she dived towards the Vampire closest, swinging a haymaker, slamming the Blade of Osiris into his temple, the Vampires eyes clouding a dull black, with currents of crimson electricity swimming through it.

She/I pulled the weapon free as the Vampire slumped to the ground, ducking underneath a savage attack from a male Vampire on my/her left, driving the Blade upwards into the bottom of his chin, thrusting the Blades tip into his brainpan.

I/we pivoted suddenly, spinning on my/our heels, jabbing the Blade into the heart of a female Vampire as she tried to sneak up from behind. This time the Vampire burst into flames, the skin burning away to reveal the muscles and tendons underneath, only to burn down to its skeleton, then to ash.

I/we pressed the attack, the Blade of Osiris, suddenly increasing in length, extending from dagger size to the size of a full broad sword. She/I swung, slicing a Vampire in half at the midsection, bringing the Blade close to my/her face to block a vicious claw strike.

I/she did a backflip, then another, landing in a low crouch. There were five Vampires left. We/I ran towards them, screaming in defiance, diving over a lunging monster, driving the Blade into its back, through its heart. I/She continued the front flip as the Vampire burned to cinders behind me/her.

One of the things came at her/us, but we/I sidestepped the attack, ducked underneath a kick to my/our face by another creature, grabbing it by the leg, then slicing the leg off. The Vampire fell backwards to the ground, and she/I drove the Blade into its skull before it had a chance to come to its feet. I/we left the weapon there for a moment, then turned to face the last three remaining Vampires. She/I cracked our knuckles then pulled the weapon free from the corpse, motioning them to attack with my/her free hand.

The first one charged, swinging wildly, as we/I ducked underneath the blow, grabbing the Vampire by his face, my/her fingers digging into its eyes as we pulled its head back, exposing its throat. The Blade of Osiris shrunk down instantly, no longer then a short sword as I/she slit its throat, then its spine and as the body burst into flames, she/I tossed the head towards the last two remaining Vampires, the skull completely burning to ash just before landing at their feet.

"Is this all there is?" I/she challenged. "Is this all that you are?"

There was a hiss, then something unintelligent as a response.

The Blade of Osiris fully extended itself again as the Vampire attacked, swinging its clawed fingers wickedly, left, right, left, right...

I/we sidestepped each attack as if it was nothing, right, left, right, left, swing, decapitation. The last Vampire was already in the air, launching towards us/me when the Blade of Osiris fired, just as a gun would, the explosive round catching the Vampire in the mid-section, the body bursting in to flame, the astral form of its whispery soul being yanked free from its burning frame, dissipating into nothingness.

I/her spun once again, yet this time it was myself personally looking down the barrel of the Blade of Osiris, the very tip of the sword resembling the barrel of a gun.

She looked directly at me. "Who are you and what are you doing here?"

The tip of the Gunblade was smoking, my Dreamself's beautifully tattered white dress coated in thick, black Vampire blood. She could see me. Just like that Vampire could see me the last time, except he didn't speak, he was simply aware of my presence. This girl though, the other me with the shredded, pretty white dress, kung-fu moves and the sword that shot explosive, soul rendering bullets, she not only acknowledged my presence, but...

She cocked the Blade of Osiris. "ANSWER ME!"

I came awake suddenly, the force of her scream bringing me back to consciousness. I was covered in sweat, the pillow and sheets soaked through, my heart pounding mercilessly in my chest. The dreams were becoming more vibrant, more real, more...dangerous. Even though I've had the same dream for over a month, it was only just now, within these past couple of days that I was able to remember more upon...

"I hope you don't wake up like that every night." Came a familiar voice. "That would be such a killjoy."

It took a second for my vision to adapt to wakefulness, but a second was all I needed. I saw him there, resting comfortable in my love seat in the corner, sipping what looked like...a strawberry daiquiri?

My dark haired savior.

"Connor." I whispered, surprised to not only see him, but to have him here, in my home, in my room no less. "What are you...how did you..."

"Security at this establishment is very lax." He sipped his drink. "The blonde one let me in. She is very cute, very sexy."

"Abigail?" I managed. I wasn't sure what to do; I wasn't expecting him...here!

"Yes, that's the one. Gave me a complete police interrogation upon entering." He placed his drink on the floor. "Nosy little bird isn't she?"

"What are...what are you doing here Connor?" I sat up on the bed. "What are you doing in my room?"

"I thought we had plans for the evening?" He stated. "Apparently I was mistaken."

He rose to leave.

"Wait!" I got up, pushing the covers aside.

"Why are you covered in paint?" Connor asked.

I ignored him. "How did you find out where I live?"

"You're kidding me right?" He picked up his drink. "I've had farts bigger then this town."

"It's just...I wasn't expecting you here, at my home." I wanted to move closer to him, yet I maintained our distance.

"Oh I see. You were planning to stand me up, for whatever reason, which I'm sure in your mind, was paramount, yet in truth, irrelevant."

"No, that's not..."

"And yet here I am." Connor motioned to himself. "Demon in human clothing. Do you wanna dance with the devil in the pale of the moonlight?"

"What are you..." I began.

"I always ask that of all my prey." Connor finished. He made a beeline towards the door before pausing. "I can leave or I can meet you downstairs."

What was he doing here? In my home no less! I mean, when I saw him earlier, when I agreed to go out with him, that was one thing, having him show up in my room is something else altogether.

I should be furious and yet I wasn't. I wanted to see him; I wanted him here with me. I wanted us to go out tonight. I wanted him. Even if a large part of my subconscious warned me against it, having Connor this close...

"Do you always talk to yourself, about yourself, when you dream or was that just for my benefit?" Asked Connor.

"Get out of my room!" I yelled.

"Downstairs then?"

"Yes!"

"See you soon." Connor slipped out, closing the door behind him.

"Are you freaking kidding me?" I said to myself.

"I can still hear you." Came Connors response from the other side of my bedroom door.

"Downstairs! NOW!" I fired off. "Can you hear that?"

"I dead man in China could hear that."

"Connor!"

"Going downstairs now." He announced. "And do please take a shower, you smell like mass public transportation."

I listened, trying to hear him going down the steps, but there was nothing but silence. After a few minutes, I came to the conclusion that he wasn't standing outside my door any longer. I had forgotten all about my plans with Connor. Well, it's not that I forgot entirely, but rather my intent was to just ignore everything completely, especially since I had never given him my phone number or address.

I figured that our little outing tonight could just be glossed over. I never expected to wake and find Connor drinking alcohol in my bedroom watching me sleep.

How creepy is that?

And why the hell was he sipping strawberry daiquiris? He had one of Aiden's Calvin and Hobbes plastic cups, which means he got the drink from here. Which means, not only did Abigail let him in, she was quenching his thirst as well. Did she cook him dinner while she was at it?

I took one of the quickest showers I've ever taken in my life, nothing but business between me, the soap and the water. I threw on a Pulp Fiction tee shirt and some destroyed, Abercrombie and Fitch jeans. A little bit of makeup, just a touch here and there, some lipstick and eye shadow and I pulled my hair to the back.

I started down the steps and I could see Connor there with Aiden in the living room, the couches pulled back so there was room for the two of them to maneuver. Abigail sat at one of the bar stools at the kitchen counter, watching the two boys go at it.

"No, not like that." Connor said, grabbing Aiden's palm with his hand. "If you do it this way and stick your leg out here, like this, you can flip them to the ground like so."

Connor moved extremely quickly, twisting Aiden's palm, flipping him to the ground softly. As painful as it looked, Aiden seemed to rebound from it quickly, Connor helping him up. "That didn't hurt did it?"

"No, no, I'm good, I'm good." Aiden got back into position. "Show me one more time again, show me how to do it."

Connor repeated the move, demonstrating even slower this time, going over each step in detail, not moving on to the next until Aiden acknowledged he was ready to proceed. Abigail just watched silently, engrossed in it all, her drink almost finished. She shoved a mozzarella stick in her mouth.

"Kick his ass baby!" She screamed. "Show him how we get down here in Palm Coast. Oh, Madison, hey you."

I came up next to her, taking one of the fried cheese sticks from her plate on the counter. "So what's up?"

"Nothing but the Benjamin's baby." She replied.

"So I see you've met Connor."

She offered her drink and I took it, washing down the cheese stick. They really needed to be reheated again.

Abigail ate another mozzarella stick. "And I thought Ethan looked good."

"It's not like I can't hear you." Aiden announced. "I am still in the room."

"Oh, you're much cuter baby, but in a different way." Abigail gave me one of her looks. "Now show mamma how you..."

Connor deflected Aiden's attack, then flipped him to the ground.

"...never mind baby." Abigail finished. She turned to me. "So I hear you have a hot date tonight?"

"Yeah and about that, you just like, what, let him in my room while I was sleeping?" I asked. "He could be a psycho."

"I'm so not getting the psycho vibe from him." Abigail admitted. "Plus, its...I don't know, very hard to say no to him when he asks a question."

I had a flashback to when I met him at the bookstore and unloaded all my intimate feelings in one breath. "Tell me about it. How long has he been here?"

"I'm not sure." Abigail paused to think. "Hour and a half, two hours maybe?"

"He's been here that long?" I continued to watch as the boys just ignored us, wrestling back in forth in the living room, with Connor breaking it off every now and then to give instruction.

"He just showed up at the door." Abigail said. "Once he told me who he was, that he was THE Hip-Hop Anonymous, what was I supposed to do, tell him to leave? I knew you would want to see him once you woke up, plus he did say you two had made plans."

"Yeah, I...we met earlier today."

"Was Ethan there?" She asked.

"Yeah."

Abigail rolled her eyes. "Pimping since pimping been pimping."

I disagreed. "It's not even like that."

Connor chimed in. "Oh, it's exactly like that." Aiden tried a different approach this time, trying to catch Connor unaware, thinking his attention was focused on me. Connor shifted suddenly and Aiden ended up on the ground again.

"Do you see where you went wrong?" Asked Connor. "You didn't place your foot where I showed you, so I was able to use your body's own momentum against itself."

"So what's up with the amateur UFC match going on in the living room?" I asked.

"Boys will be boys." Abigail shrugged. "I'm just waiting for somebody to take their shirt off."

Aiden reached up and grabbed Connors helping hand as he rose to his feet. "Still here Abby."

"I'm sorry." Connor came over towards the two of us. He hadn't even broken a sweat. "Your brother wanted me to show him how I disarmed your attacker, how I was able to get the gun away from him. One thing led to another..."

"It's cool lil sis, he was just showing me some of them moves you were talking about. I thought you were over exaggerating a little bit, till Connor here showed up and started to break it down, Bourne Identity style."

"Well he's just full of unwarranted surprises, isn't he?" I responded.

"I'm sure there's a compliment hidden in there, somewhere." Connor held out his arm. "I'd love to try to locate its position. Shall we?"

He was arrogant, obnoxious and utterly breathtaking. I took his arm reluctantly, our skin touching, the butterflies in my stomach flapping their wings in such a ferocious manner, a whirlwind was caught up inside my chest.

I could hear that little voice inside me, the one that always spoke up when danger was pressing its lips far too close for an introduction. Yet instead of listening to her distress signal, I beckoned closer to dangers call, ready to crash my battered vessel against the shore of destruction.

"So what's the plan for the night?" I asked.

Connor gave such a devilish smirk, Lucifer himself would be envious. "Just a little breaking and entering with a possible accessory to homicide. The usual."

"Does that work on all the woman or am I supposed to be the exception?" I was trying not to fall for his tough guy bravado.

Connor gave me a quick wink. "There are no exceptions to the rules, just laws that apply to lesser individuals."

I couldn't help but smile. "You're not that smooth, Connor."

"I'm as smooth as a hot comb on nappy ass hair." He took a step back to look at me fully. "Now, you ready to do the damn thing or are you waiting for parental supervision?"

I could hear Aiden laughing in the background. "Knight to Queens's rook."

"Checkmate." Abigail followed up.

Connor opened the front door, his lime green Lamborghini parked sideways across the parking lot. His rims, which there were more of then tires, were jet-black chrome that sparkled with a life all to themselves. I didn't know much about vehicles but I did know that his car cost more than our house.

Abigail come up from behind, her arm around my waist, chin on my shoulder as Connor made his way towards the driver side door.

"You're just batting a thousand in the WTF department." She whispered so softly, I barely heard her.

"You ain't seen nothing yet." Connor commented over an engine hum so silent, one would be hard pressed to even know it was on.

I shot Abby a wayward glance, then made my way towards the car. Connor pressed a button on the steering wheel and the passenger side door opened up on its own, sliding upwards, suicide style.

Suicide, it's a suicide side...

I climbed in, locking the seat belt in place, the door closing after me. Connor shifted gears, and then blasted down the street. He had some old school rap bumping out the speakers, something I hadn't heard of before, but rang inside my ears like premonition.

The Bridge is over, the Bridge is over...

"How can someone your age afford a car like this?" I wondered aloud.

Connor never took his eyes off the road. "Because I'm older then you think."

My phone rang and when I checked the caller ID, my heart sank just a little. It was Ethan. I forgot I told him to call me. I wanted to answer it, the thought of hearing his voice was completely overwhelming; to the point it frightened me at times. I couldn't understand how I felt so attached to someone I had just...

"Don't answer it." Connors voice overrode Ethan's in my mind.

"What?"

"Don't answer it." He repeated.

"And why wouldn't I?"

"Because I asked you not to." He was sincere in his request and yet, something told me that I shouldn't...

"Too late." He finished.

My cell had stopped ringing, the touchscreen showing one missed call. He didn't leave a message.

"You knew that was going to happen."

"Like I know how long it takes before your voicemail kicks in." Connor was sarcastic, yet playful.

"Whatever. So I met a friend of yours today." I put the cell on vibrate then placed it in my pocket.

He looked at me skeptically. "I doubt it."

"Why is that?"

"Because I don't have any friends."

"I'm your friend."

He didn't reply.

"You saved my life Connor." The cityscape was flying past us. "We'll be friends until the day one of us dies."

"Who was it?" He was dodging. It was the first time I've seen him even slightly uncomfortable.

"The guy from the book store, that author dude." I could just stare at his profile all night. The way his eyes just seemed to glow...

"You know John Rogers?" Surprise was in his voice, which was something I wasn't expecting.

"Yeah, well, sorta of." How does his eyes glow like...tiny little, amber hued flashlights? How is that even possible? "We met him today. Had a nice little convo."

"We?"

"Yeah, Ethan and I." Glow in the dark contacts maybe? "He said you knew him."

Connor let out a chuckle. Just one. Very odd.

"What?" Did I say something funny?

He didn't reply.

"So do you know him?" And I thought it was difficult to get anything out of Ethan.

"Yeah, I know Rogers." He finally admitted. "Me and him, we go way back."

"Really?"

"So what did you guys talk about?" Connor pulled off at the next exit. "The weather?"

"No, not the weather, Mr. I'm really not as funny as I think I am. A bunch of weird, crazy stuff."

"Well, that is his forte." Connor added. "The man has like, a PHD in the impossible. He's like Mulder, Scully, Dr. Who and Giles rolled up together in a faux British accent and a fondness for Asian strippers."

We pulled into what appeared to be an airport, though it was smaller than any I'd ever been to. I didn't even know Palm Coast had an airport. It must be privately owned because none of the planes I saw there were very big to begin with. They were the kind that rock stars crash to their death in.

"He was telling me and Ethan about alternate dimensions."

"Very real. Trust me."

"And the Mark of Pandora?"

Connor pulled the car right up to a plane, stopping just before a metal looking staircase that led to the planes open cabin.

"He told you about that? About the Mark?" He was suddenly serious.

"Yup." What the hell were we doing at a private airfield? "So what's with the airplane?"

"What exactly did he say to you about the Mark?" Connor had cut the engine off and turned in his seat to look at me directly.

There was a man that peeked his head out of the planes open door. He titled his hat to me before heading towards the cockpit. He must have been the pilot because I could see him through the window fiddling with the controls. I looked around noticing that the airfield was empty other than of us.

I was getting that feeling in the pit of my stomach again, that feeling a deer must get just before he gets a chest full of buckshot. "Why are we at an airport? What's going on?"

The flecks of amber in his eyes began to circulate within his iris as he spoke. "Tell me what John said about the Mark."

"Only that he saw the Mark of Pandora on you, me and Ethan. That it was a Nexus in time for him." I found myself speaking uncontrollably as if I wanted to just volunteer any and every answer to whatever question Connor spoke.

"Then it has begun." He whispered to himself.

"He also said that as well."

The amber flecks stopped moving in their circular orbit around his iris and I felt somewhat normal again. Less...hypnotized. That was the only way to describe it. Connor got out of the car and began walking towards the plane.

"Hey!" I yelled, following after him. "Where the hell are you going?"

"Me?" Connor turned around. "I'm going to San Francisco."

"San Francisco?" I repeated.

"Yes. San Francisco. Have you heard of it? It's in California." Connor started up the steps that led into the airplane, stopping midway. "Are you coming?"

"What are you crazy? I can't go to California, I've got school tomorrow!"

"Trust me Madison; you're definitely not making school tomorrow."

"I'm not going to San Francisco with you Connor."

"Then you've reached somewhat of a Nexus of your own then, haven't you?" He said. "You can either come with me, come to California and find out what is going on. Find out why someone is trying to kill you, find out the truth about this Mark of Pandora, or..." Connor tossed me the keys to his half a million dollar sports car. "You can take those, drive home and that's that."

"You can't be serious?" There was no way I was getting in some plane and flying all the way across the country to some city I've never been to, with some guy I just met. I don't care if he saved my life or not.

"This is it Madison Amber Rose. This is the moment. This is it right here. Your moment. Your Nexus. Your life before and your life after this choice. This is it. Don't fool yourself. What you do next will have ramifications. It will define the rest of your existence. I know you're not ready, but when are we ever?" Connor held his hand out towards me.

"Dude, you're crazy. I'm not going to San Francisco with you; I don't even know you like that."

Connor sighed. "I see this is going to need a little visual stimulation."

I turned away, intent to open the car door, when Connor suddenly appeared in front of me, just materializing out of thin air, blinking into existence out of nothingness, placing his hand on mine.

"Holly shit!" I screamed, jumping back. "What the hell! How did you just..."

Connor disappeared again, vanishing from sight. "Everything as you know it is about to change, Madison."

I spun on my heels at the sound of his voice. He was directly behind me, sitting at the very top of the metal stairs. It was at least twenty-five feet from where I was standing, there was no way...

He vanished again, disappearing from the steps, only to materialize directly inside of the car, his hands gripping the steering wheel. This time I didn't jump back. I just stood my ground. I was too scared to do anything else. I was a deer in headlights, frozen in my tracks, unmoving, unblinking, unable to do anything other than watch the events unfold before me in morbid fascination.

"There is more to this world then just class tomorrow." He stated. Connor reappeared suddenly, standing at the top of the steps. He stood there for a moment longer then walked inside the plane.

I didn't know what to do! I was shaking all over, my mind seemingly overwhelmed with possibilities. I couldn't explain what I just saw, couldn't even comprehend what my eyes were trying to register as fact. It was like, real life CG, right in front of my eyes. It was crazy.

Everything was crazy!

I jumped into the car, the door auto closing as I put my seatbelt on. I needed to get away from this place. I needed to get as far away from Connor as I possibly could. I couldn't process what was going on. How did he? How did he move like that? I thought that maybe I was crazy, the way he just vanished when we first met, I thought it was just me putting way too much on it, exaggerating my experience, but now...

I started the engine, then turned the key again, thinking the car wasn't on. The engine let off a horrifying screech. The car was already on, the engine so low I couldn't tell. I was bugging out so much I couldn't even tell if I started the car or not. People just don't...people just don't do the things that Connor does. People don't move the way he moves.

Was he even human...

I wanted to put the car in reverse, just whip it around, hit the highway and not look back. I wanted to do a lot of things, yet I found myself doing absolutely nothing instead. I just sat there; head leaned up against the steering wheel, eyes closed as the music blasted in my ears.

The Bridge is over, the Bridge is over...

He was right about one thing though. This was it. This was the moment. I felt so alive. Despite everything, no matter how scared I was, I'd never felt more alive than this particular moment right now. This is the moment. This is my moment. I needed to make a choice.

Either leave now and never look back, or board that plane, fly to California and, well, I don't know what the and is. I wouldn't know until the and was upon me.

I turned the engine off.

"Ride or Die." I said to no one in particular. I got out of the car. I couldn't turn back now. Not after witnessing what Connor was able to do. He was right about one thing, that's for certain.

I see this is going to need a little visual stimulation.

I got out the car and walked up the metal steps into the airplane. As soon as I entered a blonde-haired woman closed the door behind, motioning for me to take a seat next to Connor who was resting comfortable on an expensive looking tan leather chair.
Chapter 14

My dark haired savior...

"Nice of you to join us." He admitted, a hint of victory in his voice. "Please, take a seat. Would you like some caviar?"

"What are you?" I demanded.

He shook his head. "No, no of course you wouldn't. How about a burger?" He motioned to the flight attendant. "Mademoiselle, please get my illustrious companion here a burger...a bacon double cheese burger, seasoned home fries and a pink lemonade."

"Yes sir." She answered back in a thick French accent and then disappeared towards the rear of the plane, closing the curtain behind her to give us some privacy. I'd never seen a plane like this before, resembling a spacious studio apartment then an aircraft. There were leather couches and chairs, a pool table, multiple flat screen televisions, computer monitors and what could only be a stripper pole. Oh and a kitchen apparently, hidden somewhere in the rear.

Connor just sat there, reclined back comfortably, scooping massive amounts of what looked like black jelly on crackers, sipping red wine. Jimmy Hendrix was playing somewhere in the background. He took a bite of his cracker, then motioned for me to take a seat. I stood my ground, defiantly.

"We are about to take off, my dear, so unless you wanna go bumbling down the aisle on lift off..."

He had a point. Reluctantly I took seat opposite of him, keeping a fair amount of distance between us. "Are you one of those mutants they're constantly talking about on TV?"

"Gods no." He just laughed the question off as if it was the dumbest thing he had heard all week. "Besides that word is derogatory. I do believe they prefer the term Hyper Sensitive or some other irrelevant drivel."

His eyes, they seemed to glow and in that instant I understood that it wasn't a trick of the lighting, or some type of fancy type of movie contacts. They were his eyes and they produced some odd type of incandesce.

"Then what are you?"

"Do you really want to know?" He pushed the crackers and the caviar away from him on the table and then pushed the table itself out the way, the thin marble tray swiveling somewhere out of sight.

"I followed you down the rabbit hole, didn't I?"

He crossed his arms. "Why yes, you did."

I could feel the plane tilting upwards, rising into the infinite, the ground beneath us disappearing in the window. He was beside me, just like that. Eye blink style.

"Do I frighten you?" He asked in all sincerity.

"Yes. No." He was so close to me now. The hairs on my neck stood on end. "I should be, but I'm not."

"Hmm..." He titled his head somewhat, at an angle impossible for a human to hold. "What do you think I am?"

A part of me wanted to move, to slide further down on the couch or move to another seat altogether, yet another part only wanted him to move closer. "I don't know? The way you move, it's like the Flash or something."

"Or something." This time when he smiled, I could see how sharp his teeth appeared.

Unnaturally sharp.

"Let me explain something to you." His fingers caressed the side of my face momentarily. His touch, the way it felt against my flesh was like concrete cinder block inside a satin bag. "I am not the hero of this story."

I drew back. "What's that supposed to mean Connor?"

The flight attendant came back with my food, placed it on an ivy counter top, then disappeared back where she came.

"It means that Palm Coast, this is MY city. Mine and mine alone. I run this. What happened to you, the way that went down, nobody does that in my town without my prior knowledge and permission. It's disrespectful."

"Why are you telling me this?" I wasn't sure where this conversation was going, but I didn't like it.

"I just want you to understand, so you don't have any misconceptions about who and what I am." He took a bite out of one of my home fries.

"What are you Connor?"

"I am a Vampire, Madison."

"You? You're a Vampire?'

"Yes."

I couldn't help but let out an unexpected giggle. "No, come on, really, what are you?"

He sighed. "You're so not taking this seriously are you?"

"Do you sparkle in sunlight?" I asked.

"Now you're just mocking me."

I grabbed my bacon double and took a humongous bite. "You just don't come off as the Vampire type is all. I mean, mutant type, yeah, I could kinda buy that, especially with the super-fast running thing you got going on. Plus I watch the news, they claim mutants might be real now, some genetic thing and all, but a Vampire?"

I grabbed a handful of fries and stuffed them in my mouth as well, speaking through mouthfuls of food. "Are you sure you're a Vampire? I mean, are you certain?"

"You must need another visual aid." He said "Mademoiselle!"

The cute little blonde Stewardess drew back the curtain and stepped inside the cabin. He was on her before she could speak, clamping down on the arterial vein in her neck with his sharpened teeth. Blood sprayed everywhere, his hand fastening down around her mouth to muffle her screams. He drew his head back, eyes closed, as he let out a moan of pleasure, his face and neck covered in blood, dark crimson dripping down the sides of his mouth and jaw.

She was still alive, but barely, whimpering softly. Connor wrapped his hands around her chin and head then twisted violently, snapping her neck with such ferocity, such force, that she just slumped to the ground dead. His head came to attention, opening his eyes to look at me. They were jet-black orbs surrounding a bright glowing amber iris. His skin had gone a sickly pale white and I could see the blood moving in the veins of his face.

I wanted to scream, but my voice was caught up in my throat. I wanted to run, but there was nowhere for me to go. Just like that he was in front of me again, his face ever so close, covered in the blood of a dead woman, a ghastly apparition, just like the monsters from my dream.

"I am not...the hero...of the story." He repeated again. Very slowly this time, so that every word sunk in.

I could see his teeth, see how Vampiric they were as he spoke and yet they were nothing like the movies where it was just the fangs that were sharp, it was the complete opposite. It was like a mouthful of perfectly manicured talons, akin to a lion's maw. His face was blood soaked from the nose down.

It was the most frightening thing I've ever witnessed in my life.

He was across the cabin now, instantaneously, sitting in his original chair, the one he was resting in when I first entered the plane, napkin in hand, wiping off his fingers. His face was immaculate, completely free of blood, as if nothing had ever happened.

He finished grooming himself, then looked at the back of his hands examining his fingernails. He dropped the blood-drenched cloth on the dead woman's head at his feet and then tossed me a clean napkin. I think it was cashmere.

"You've got blood on your face."

A redheaded Stewardess appeared from behind the curtain along with two, buff looking men. They grabbed the dead woman by the legs and dragged her back behind the curtain.

"Anything else Monsieur?" Asked the cute little redheaded Stewardess.

"That will be all." Connor announced, waving her off. "A little privacy for me and my colleague here."

She turned and disappeared behind the red curtain. Apparently, dead co-workers must come complimentary with the inflight movie. I looked in the mirror, my hand trembling as I wiped a dark streak of blood from my face. I was so terrified that it was difficult for me to concentrate.

This was it Madison, I thought to myself. This is your moment.

"I...I want to go home." I could barely get the words out. Barely enunciate them correctly even though they were the only thing on my mind.

Connor just shook his head and laughed. "It's too late for that now baby, we're going to San Francisco."

"Are you going to kill me?" I had to regain my composure. It didn't matter that I just witnessed a brutal murder by some...Mythological Creature in Urban Society.

Damn you John Rogers.

"Quite the contrary, Madison. You and the rest of your little Wu-Tang Clan, Aiden, Ethan, Abigail, the whole Scooby-doo network, all of you are under my protection."

"What does that mean? Your protection?" I couldn't understand how calm he was. How he was going on and on about whatever, ignoring the fact that some women...I mean he just snapped her...oh God I'm going to die. He's going to...

"Oh, well this just isn't going to do." He seemed agitated by my emotion. "We can't have a civilized conversation if you're thinking I'm going to murder you at any moment."

No, we can't.

His eyes were back to normal, that is, back to normal for Connor. Beautiful grey, with tiny amber flecks that began to glow brighter than normal. "It's okay. Repeat it."

A dull hypnotic trance began to take over me, my mind becoming all wishy washy. "It's okay." I repeated.

"I'm not going to harm you."

"You're not going to harm me." I could feel my trepidation about Connor slip away, still there, yet just out of my grasp.

"Despite what anyone else says about me, you can always trust me. I will always protect you and yours."

"I am completely safe with you. You will protect me, my family and my friends." I don't know what I was even thinking before. Connor would always be there for me. He already saved my life once. If he wanted me dead, I would be dead. He doesn't want to kill me, he wants to protect me.

Duh.

The amber in his eyes dimmed down a bit. "There, much better now, eh?"

I blinked my eyes, shaking the cobwebs from my head. I felt so much calmer than before. Yeah, I was still frightened, I mean, the dudes a Vampire, a real Vampire, but he was...my Vampire. If that made any sense.

"What did you...what did you just do to me?"

"Super-secret Vampire trick." He seemed amused with himself.

"Which is?"

"Become a Vampire and find out."

"I don't want to become a..." I stopped, my eyes drawn to the deep, saturated bloodstain on the carpet. "You just made me an accessary to murder."

"I told you that before we left the house." He laughed.

"You can't..." I struggled with the words, not ever imagining in my life that they would ever be coming from my lips. "You just can't kill people around me Connor."

"I'm a Vampire, Madison. I can do whatever the hell I want." He said. "Especially kill people. That's what Vampires do."

"Not anymore." I was regaining my courage somehow. Despite what I just saw, I wasn't as frightened. My composure was returning.

"Whatever, Madison."

"No, it's not whatever." I snapped. "Promise me..."

"Promise you what?"

"Promise me that you're not going to kill anyone while we're in California, Connor."

He gave me the most incredulous stare. "I'm not gonna do that."

"Promise me or when we land, I'm catching the first flight home."

He refused to speak.

"Now, Connor." I demanded. "It's a deal breaker. I...I can't be involved in that. I refuse to be involved in that."

"Fine. Whatever. I promise." He said begrudgingly.

I couldn't believe what my life had become. How much it had changed in a matter of days. It seemed like just yesterday I was hanging out with my friends, drinking alcohol, cutting class, partying down at the beach and tonight...

Well tonight I'm on a plane to California, witness to a murder, companion to the murderer, who was also a Vampire, who also just happened to save my life. As the world turns, huh? I studied his features, yet he seemed so normal, so complacent. Nothing like those vile creatures I've been dreaming about. Well, at least now he doesn't. Just a few minutes ago however...

"How did it happen?" I asked.

"How did what happen?"

"How did you...you know, become a Vampire." I specified. "How did it happen?"

There was a long pause and I could tell he was mulling over in his mind what he should say. "I don't know." He admitted finally.

"You don't know?" I repeated. "How is that possible?"

Connor shrugged. "I just woke up like this one day. It's not like the movies Madison; sometimes there is no rhyme or reason to things. No tragic, poetic meaning at the moment of Vampiric creation. Sometimes it just is what it is. I woke up and didn't know what I was and a lot of people died because of it."

He seemed somewhat taken aback, like the memory of the thing had just rose up from some dark abyss and was attempting to swallow him whole. In that moment, he seemed almost human to me.

Almost...

"Tell me." I asked again. "I...I need to know."

"You don't need to know anything." He replied.

"Connor..."

He just snorted loudly.

"What?" I asked.

"Connor." He repeated slowly. "That's not even my real name."

"I know." I could tell he was hurting. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what?"

"You didn't ask to become a..." I trailed off.

"Just say it." He actually came off somewhat concerned. "It becomes easier the more you say it out loud. It's easier for the brain to process it as fact."

"You didn't ask to become a Vampire." I managed.

"Don't feel sorry for me." He said. "I get to live forever."

"You make it sound like that's a good thing."

"And you think it isn't?"

I glanced out one of the windows, looking at the clouds underneath us as we soared towards our destination. "I find it quite sad actually."

"How so?"

"Because you'll outlive all of your friends, your family. You'll watch each one of them die eventually, over and over and over again, repeatedly throughout the centuries. I couldn't live like that. Anyone you ever get close to in your life, in the end, you'll just watch them die out."

"I don't have to worry about that." He admitted.

"And why is that?"

"Because all my family and friends are already dead." He stated with finality.

"You're wrong about that last part Connor." I corrected. "You have me." That almost seemed to make him sad.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"No, tell me." I pressed.

"I think I might have over did it a little bit."

I was confused. "Over did what?"

"Nothing. I'll fix it later."

"O-kay." I didn't ask him to elaborate, because I knew that he wouldn't. "So what's in California?"

"I'm not sure yet." He stated. "The man who tried to kidnap you..."

"The man in black, you mean?"

"The one and only. His name is Terrence Goodwin."

"Did you kill him?" I asked suddenly, even though I already knew the answer to my question before I asked it.

"Of course I did." Connor admitted freely. "He had to die. There was no other way around it."

"Nobody has to die Connor."

"You don't have the luxury of living in that world anymore, Madison. That life is over for you now. You've been swept up into something bigger then yourself, broader in scope and infinitely more dangerous. You don't know the players, you don't know the rules and ignorance in not bliss, it will only get you killed." Connor pulled out his phone, pressing the touchscreen a couple of times with his finger, searching for something.

"My world isn't going to be filled in a never ending cycle of blood and death."

Connor shook his head. "We operate above human laws, not because we can, but because we have to."

"I refuse to believe that." That was not the way I planned on living my life.

"Take the high ground all you like, I'll visit your grave soon enough because of it." He said simply. "Goodwin had to die, otherwise, he would have tried it again, tried to kidnap you, murder you or whatever nefarious plot he had in mind. Someone hired him Madison, hired him to come after you. Once a contract is accepted, it's a done deal. He wouldn't have stopped until he either completed his mission or he was dead."

"Someone hired him?" The puzzle pieces were starting to link together in my mind. "So there's like, a contract out on me or something?

"Oh, most definitely." Connor slid his phone across the table towards me. "Three point five million."

"What?" I was in a state of shock.

"And that's in Euros, not American dollars. Congratulations, you're in the major leagues now. Have you ever seen that tattoo before?"

I picked up the phone, looking at the photo on the screen. It was a picture of the back of a man's neck. Located directly in the center was a tattoo of a dragon, mouth wide. The dragons neck snaked down his spine, ending in a large circle in the center, the dragons belly, containing a flaming sun and a half crescent moon, with stars dotted around it. The dragon's tail ended in a writhing snake, poised to strike, fangs dripping venom.

The artwork was beautiful and the amount of detail, astounding. "No, I've never seen anything like it." I slid the phone back to him. "It's beautiful though."

"It is isn't it?" He agreed. He rolled the sleeve of his shirt up to his elbow, revealing the same tattoo inked across the inside of his forearm. Although there were some slight deviations, it was in essence the same. "This was on the back of your would be kidnapper. It's not just a tattoo. It represents membership into The Brotherhood of the Snake and Dragon."

There were more tattoos covering his arm, but he pushed his sleeve down before I could make them out. "Snake and Dragon? What is that, some type of college frat house thing?"

"The Brotherhood of the Snake and Dragon is an ultra-exclusive, ultra elite, secret society, dating back three thousand years before Christ." He explained.

"Oh."

"Membership is a rarity." He continued. "And by invitation only. Exclusivity is paramount. Humans are not allowed."

"What do you mean, not allowed?" I asked.

"It's for Immortals only. Originally, it was two separate institutions. The Brotherhood of the Snake, which only accepted the undying into its ranks, things and people who by birth or by chance of fate were rendered immortal or something so close to it the difference was inconsequential."

"You mean people like you?" I connected the dots. "Vampires?"

"Among other things." He stated. "Vampires aren't the only immortals walking the earth."

"What did you mean by something so close to it?"

"Minimal potential lifespan had to exceed two hundred years." He said. "If you were able to live for two centuries, either through natural, technological or temporal means, then you fit the basic qualifications for membership."

"Temporal? Sounds just like some technobabble Rogers would say."

Connor placed his phone back in his pocket. "John Rogers is an active member in The Brotherhood."

"You're kidding me?" I couldn't believe it.

"John is in possession of a Chaos Equation and is not limited by linear progression. He has born witness to the Forgotten Future and is now premeditated paradox. You would do well to heed his words."

"You said there used to be two? Two separate Brotherhoods?" I didn't want to get caught up in the world of John Rogers at the moment, even though I was slowly coming to the conclusion that it was my world now as well.

"The other is called The Brotherhood of the Dragon. Some of their members date back to when time was a liquid. Membership is reserved for true immortals only."

What he was saying wasn't making any sense. When time was a liquid? What does that even mean? "Wait, immortals, true immortals, what's the difference if you live forever?"

He seemed to have anticipated the question. "In theory, I am immortal. I cannot die. I will be here until the day the earth corrodes upon itself or the sun gives us a supernova kiss and wipes out this entire solar system. Twelve thousands years from now, I still shall be. I might not look the same; Vampires tend to lose that which makes us human over the centuries. There will come a point in time that I will no longer be able to blend with humanity, visually I'll be...something else. Something other than human, to the point that it will be noticeable, but I will still be me...somewhat. I think therefor I am."

Connor appeared next to me, moving in that why that he does, just appearing at my side. He ran his fingers across my forehead softly, sensually, the way a lover would touch his mate, yet when he drew back, those very same fingers were soaked in blood.

He licked his index and middle fingers clean. "Missed a spot." He was at the bar now, at the other end of plane, pouring a glass full of red wine.

"Yet, like I said, that is in theory only." He was at his chair now, glass already drained empty, resting it on the table that separated us. "I could have a bad day you see, a very bad day and just like that, I'm dead. Fineto. But a true immortal, ah, a true immortal, well, they can't die. Ever. They can't be killed. They just persist. They keep on with the keeping on. And that is what separates them from me."

"And now The Snake and The Dragon are one? One Brotherhood?" I didn't like where this was going. Not one bit.

"Well yeah, happened not that long ago. I'm kinda new to the scene, so I don't have all the details. But yes, one Brotherhood. One ring to rule them all so to speak. They were powerful separate, but together, well..."

"And that tattoo, the one in the picture that was all tatted up on my attacker, that signifies that he was a part of The Brotherhood? The Brotherhood of the Snake and Dragon?"

"You've got the ball, now run with it." He said.

"Which means, he was...some type of immortal, either regular immortal or true immortal?"

"Well, not true immortal because he died easily enough." Connor added.

"You mean you killed him easily enough." I corrected.

"He had to die." He repeated.

I found myself saying: "I kinda agree with you."

"Oh do you now?" My response caught him by surprise.

"I honestly don't think I want to be on their radar."

"Too late." Connor admitted. "But at least now you're in stealth mood."

"But what I don't understand is why someone is so interested in me? I'm just some random chick from Palm Coast, Florida."

"Well that's why we're going to San Francisco, baby. Last current address for our dead little immortal, Terrence Goodwin."

"No, that's why I'm going to Frisco." I interjected. "Why are you going? What's your part in all this?"

"I told you, Amber Rose, I may be the new kid on the block, but Palm Coast is my city. And I'll be damned if any immortal, true or otherwise, rolls up in my city and starts making power moves."

That was just the company line. "Come on, there has to be more to it than that."

"I also think you're kinda cute."

"Focus Connor." Gotta keep him on topic. "It's the Mark of Pandora."

"What about the Mark?"

"I have the Mark. John said you have the Mark." I was starting to see the dots again. All I needed to do was connect them. "Ethan has the Mark."

"John says a lot of things, honey."

"Don't call me honey." The fact that I said this to a Vampire who just licked blood off my forehead, blood from the woman he killed in front of me...

"And now it's John says a lot of things?" I wasn't buying it. "At first it's all, John has born witness to the Forgotten Future, whatever the hell that means and now it's, John says a lot of things?"

"You don't know John like I know John. The last time I saw him and the last time he saw me was only a couple of weeks apart, yet years past between us. Think about that." Connor stated. "What's your theory? I can tell by the way your heart beat just spiked you've had that literal, light bulb above the head moment."

"According to the gospel of John..."

"I like that. The gospel of John. Do you mind if I tell him that line and take credit for it?"

His attention span is almost as short as my brothers. "What? I don't care! Stay on topic dude! So there are like, thousands of Madisons and thousands of Connors across thousands of realities, all on the same airplane, having the exact same conversation. There has to be some...transference of emotion. I mean, just think about it, we're all connected, all doing the same thing, at the same time, all of us! It's bound to make our connections to one another stronger than normal. It would explain the bond between myself and Ethan as well, how connected we feel to each other even though we only just met."

"It all comes back to the Box." Said Connor.

"The Box of Pandora." Dot one to dot two.

"What's in the Box?" He asked. Dot two to dot three.

"I have no idea." I admitted. "But according to John, I'm the only one that can open it." Dot three to dot four.

"Whatever's inside must be worth at least three point five million." Connor concluded.

And there it was.

Connor was across the cabin now, by the curtain where they dragged the dead blonde woman. "Was Goodwin a Vampire?" I asked. "Is that why he had the Brotherhood tattoo?"

"No. He wasn't Nosferatu."

"Then what is he?"

"Dead." He replied. "Get some rest Madison."

Connor disappeared behind the curtain, leaving me to myself. I couldn't believe I was here in this plane, heading to San Francisco. I don't know what made me choose the path that I'm on. It wasn't anything that John Rogers initially said to me, everything that remotely came out of that man's mouth was congruent to madness.

Yet now...

I didn't know what to believe anymore. My whole testament of faith was being shaken to its core, it's very epicenter being rewritten in New Testament verse, the scripture of the Vampire and somehow I found myself the author of its bloodbath prose. My dark haired savior, who in essence was anything but. Yet somehow, I allowed myself to become wrapped up in the subtle intricacy of this new world without so much as a hesitation.

I was still hungry, yet my food, that bacon double with the extra delicious fries was covered in the life essence of someone who apparently had no need of it anymore. The scene replayed in my mind over and over, the way he bit down into her, the sheer ecstasy he seemed to take as her life slowly ebbed away into the nothingness of the abyss.

And this is the person I chose to align myself with?

Someone with so little regard for human life that he would end one with such malice and forceful violence and for what? Just to prove a point? I am not the hero of the story. Am I supposed to put my trust in paper tiger promises of safety? As if that nameless blonde with the pretty lipstick didn't get those same promises?

Oh sure, come into work today, it's going to be fun, I promise! It's not like I'm going to murder you, drain you dry then snap your neck and have your coworkers drag your lifeless corpse off to God knows where. I promise, you'll be safe.

Did she know what he was? Did they make her sign a waiver or something, tottaly absolving him of all legality in case of random death?

This is the person who you've placed your trust in Madison. Does anybody even know where I am? I mean, yeah, sure they know I'm out on a...whatever this is with Connor, but what is that, the Gulf of Mexico underneath us? Abigail probably thinks I'm at Steak-n-Shake. I wanted to call her, let her know...something, but I decided against it. If this turns out badly, I don't want her or Aiden involved. The less they know, the safer they are.

This was the misadventure of Madison Amber Rose. No need to add guest stars when I can sing the solo all the way to the grave. Even still, I couldn't shake the undeniable feeling that I was safe, that nothing would happen to me. Never mind the fact that in the other room was a...

"Vampire." I said it aloud instead of thinking it. I don't know what he was thinking though, saying it out loud doesn't make the reality become any more believable. It just makes me doubt my sanity even further than what I already did, which was no small feat by a long shot.

I got up and walked to the bar. It was filled with top shelf liquor, mostly labels from other countries with names I couldn't pronounce. I instinctively grabbed the bottle of red wine Connor had poured from earlier, filling up a glass with the dark red liquid. I took a drink then nearly choked, my gag reflex kicking in almost automatically as I spit the remainder back into my glass. Whatever it was, it wasn't wine that's for certain.

In fact, it kinda tasted like...

I stopped myself from thinking the rest of that sentence. What else would a Vampire drink Madison, Thug Passion? Whatever, it's just static cling to me. I headed back over to the couch and crawled up on the snug leather and closed my eyes. Maybe it was just a bad dream, maybe I'm not in some plane flying across the country, but rather, I was home asleep in my bed.

I knew I was fooling myself however, because when I dream, I only dream of Vampires. Now for some reason, when I'm awake, I'm surrounded by them still.

I drifted in and out consciousness for most of the flight, never fully sleeping more than ten or fifteen minutes before my eyes would snap open. There was just too much on my mind for slumber. After a while I just gave up on that option altogether, instead turning on one of the flat screens and clicking the built in Netflix app. I scrolled through the movie selection but couldn't settle on anything worthwhile.

It was like their whole streaming section was filled with really bad B movies. All the good stuff was on disc, mail in only. I tried their TV choices and finally settled on Super Jail. Doesn't get any crazier than that. I watched about half the season when I felt the plane beginning to dip towards the ground. Seems like we were making our decent.

"Did you get some rest?" Connor was sitting next to me, drink in hand. I almost had a heart attack at the sound of his voice.

"Don't do that!" I wasn't keen to him being this close to me, not after last night, not after everything I had witnessed. And yet, despite everything, I still felt completely safe in his company. "Boundaries, dude, boundaries."

Connor just rolled those eyes, disregarding my statements entirely. "Get up." He shoved an extremely hot Caramel Macchiato in my hand. "We're about to land. Time to make the donuts."

I could feel the walls of the universe closing in around me. "It's not going to stop is it?"

"What do you mean?"

"People are going to keep coming after me. It doesn't matter that the man in...it doesn't matter that Goodwin is dead. I'm the only one who can open the Box of Pandora. It's going to happen again and again. It's not going to stop."

He was next to me suddenly, so close. Kissing distance. "That's why we're going to San Francisco, Madison. I'm going to find out who is behind it all. We're going to Oz and then we're going to pull back the curtain."

"Then what?"

"Then I'm going to kill the Wizard."
Chapter 15

I've never done this before, yet I think I can do it better then you...

When the plane door opened, Connor ushered me down the escalator steps to the waiting BMW that was parked not far from us. I opened the passenger side door and climbed in, waiting for Connor as he talked briefly with the pilot. I still couldn't believe I was here in California, that I had garnered up the courage to enter that plane back in Palm Coast and fly across the country on a whim, yet here I am.

I pulled out my cell and called Aiden. As much as I didn't want him or Abigail involved, I knew I couldn't not call and not show up for school as well. All I needed was for them to file a missing persons report because I'm out gallivanting across the country and didn't take the time to let people know I'm okay.

"Hey, what's up?" Aiden's voice was a relief and I was glad that he picked up and it didn't go to voicemail.

"Hey bro, its me."

"How's the date going Madison? You having fun or do I need to kick this dude's ass?" I love my brother.

I was looking at the plane as the flight crew was bringing out a very large trunk from the cargo hold of the plane. I wonder if that's where they stuffed that dead flight attendant into?

"It's going...different from what I expected." I said.

"You need me or Abigail to come and pick you up?" Aiden asked.

"No..." Connor glanced over at me, smiled and gave a brief wave. "I think I'm good." I said. "In fact, I might not make it in for a couple of days."

"Slut!" Abigail screamed.

I pulled the phone away from my ear and stared at it for a moment. "Am I on speaker?"

"Possibly." Aiden sounded like he just got caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"Okaay." Connor was heading towards the car now. "Just don't wait up for me."

"You're such a ho!" Joked Abigail.

"I love you to bitch. Gotta go, call you manana."

I hung up just as Connor climbed inside. Due to the three-hour time difference, the sun was just setting in California.

"I thought all Vampires burn up in daylight?"

"Most." Connor explained. "But not all."

"So what's the difference?" I pressed. "What determines if you can walk in the sun or not?"

"Nobody knows really." He explained. "It's just one of those things. The transformation into a Vampire, it's like pretrial medicine, it might affect Subject A one way and have a totally different effect on Subject B. It's all random, but as a general rule, you are whatever the person who made you is."

"So the person that made you, the one that turned you into a Vampire, he could walk in the sun too then?"

Connor pulled out a pack of cigarettes. "Nope."

"But you just said..."

"I know what I said." Connor was pulling onto the freeway now, working his way towards the fast lane. "There are always exceptions to the rule."

"And you're the exception?"

"Me? The exception? Nooo." He put a cigarette in his mouth and the end of it caught ablaze by itself, a brief spark of fire as he inhaled. "I'm magic."

I jumped in my seat a little bit. "How did you just..."

"Like I would tell you." Interrupted Connor.

"Whatever."

"I know." He fired back. "So what's the real reason you decided to come? It has to be more to it than what you told me on the plane."

I was gazing out the window, watching the scenery pass by. "I don't know."

"Yeah you do."

I turned to look at him, crossing my arms. "Like I would tell you anyway."

He just laughed. "Yeah you will."

"You gonna use your super-secret Vampire trick to make me?" I put just enough hostility behind my voice to make it jokingly serious.

"I have no idea what you're talking about Madison." He was trying to come off as sincere, but it wasn't very convincing. "You're gonna tell me, because you want to tell me."

"Oh yeah?" I asked.

"Yeah."

"And why's that?"

"Because I'm the only person you can talk to about this." He said.

I shifted myself so I was looking out the window again and he couldn't see my face.

"What? You gonna tell that brother of yours?" He asked. "I mean, I know he's family, but he's not the sharpest tool in the shed."

"Hey!" I yelled. "You don't know anything about Aiden!"

"Okay!"

"You don't talk about him that way, he's my blood, not some random dude I just met on the street!"

"Okay, okay!" He repeated.

I glared at him then turned away, looking out the window again.

"You know I'm right though." He added.

"Whatever Connor."

"Then there's that girlfriend of his."

I turned to see Connor smiling to himself.

"She's a spitfire, that one." He continued. "But she's got secrets of her own."

I wouldn't let myself get drawn into his game, let my emotions get manipulated so he could get what he wants. I just continued to look out the window, watching the world outside. We were pulling off the freeway now, heading towards the Bay Bridge. It wouldn't be long before we entered San Francisco.

"Fine." He stated. "Be like that. But on a different note, how did you want to do this?"

"Do what Connor?"

"This whole Goodwin thing?" He said. "I usually fly solo on things like this, but since you're here, input please."

I shifted so I could see him. "How would you normally do it?"

"You mean if it was just me?"

"Yeah."

He just shrugged. "Kick down the door, kill the first person I saw, then torture everyone else until they gave me the information I needed."

I couldn't contain my look of bewilderment.

"Then I would burn down the place with everyone inside when I was done." He added.

"You're kidding right?"

"I don't like witnesses." He indicated. "And I'm not really a fan of leaving people alive who I've violently pissed off. It always comes back to bite me in the ass."

"And that's your plan? Kill'em all and let God sort them out?"

"Well it worked for Jesus." He said randomly.

"What?" I just looked at him. "What are talking about Jesus didn't kill people."

"Uh, Sodom and Gomorra anyone?" Connor threw out the two names very sarcastically.

"But that doesn't have anything to..." I just stopped myself mid-sentence. "Look, before you go all Old Testament, Jack Bauer, let me talk to them first, okay?"

"Oh, I get it. Good Cop, bad Cop."

"No." I said. "We're not Cops, Connor. We're not here to hurt anyone and we're not here to kill anybody and we're definitely not burning up the house after we're done. We're just here to get some information, that's all."

"It's very obvious you've never done this before." He exclaimed.

"We're doing this my way Connor. You promised." I couldn't let him just go in and kill everybody. I can't have that on my conscious. It's bad enough I still can't get that flight attendants face out of my head.

"Well this is gonna be interesting." Connor pulled up to the curb and cut the engine off.

"What are you doing?" I asked. "Why did we stop?"

"Because we're here." He said.

"Wait, we're doing this now?" I was astonished. "As in right now?"

"You thought we were gonna go to the movies first? Grab a bite to eat? Go out on the town, do a little dancing?" Asked Connor. "Get out the car and put your fucking game face on, it's go time."

Connor got out, closing the car door. I knew this was what we were coming to California to do, but I didn't know it was gonna be so soon. I wasn't ready. Not just yet. I thought we were gonna go to a hotel first, get settled in and come up with a plan tonight, not just roll up to the...

Tap - Tap

I looked over and saw Connor banging on my window, motioning for me to come outside. I breathed in deeply, held it there for a second or two, then exhaled and opened the door.

We were parked on a narrow street, halfway up a hill in front of a row of Brownstone Townhouses. Connor was staring at one in particular.

I followed his gaze "This the place?"

"Yup." He said. "Three people inside. Two in the front, one in the back."

"You can tell that just by looking?"

He pointed to the Townhouse then to his ear. "Heartbeat."

"Oh." I was nervous. I wasn't sure exactly what to do next. Connor revealed a light weight, 32-caliber pistol that was tucked in at his waist and offered it to me.

I respectfully declined. "No killing."

He tucked the weapon in the small of his back, then motioned towards the Townhouse. "After you."

I walked up to the front entrance. I could hear music blasting loudly from inside as I banged on the door. We waited a bit, but no one came so I banged on it again, a lot harder this time. Still no answer. I tried the doorbell next, but the music was playing so loud that I doubt if they heard it or my knocking.

"Hello!" I yelled, banging on the door again. Still nothing. Connor gave me a look, but didn't say anything.

"Is anybody home?" I screamed, pressing down on the doorbell and not letting go.

"Go away!" Someone yelled from inside.

"Hello, I just wanna ask.."

"No solicitors, read the sign!" Countered the voice from somewhere inside the home.

Both Connor and myself looked up at the same time and saw a no solicitations sign tacked haphazardly above the front door.

"Wait, I don't wanna sell you..."

"Go fuck yourself!" Someone screamed.

"You mind if I give it a try?" Connor sighed.

"Yeah, sure, but what are you..."

Connor kicked the door once and it just exploded off the hinges, shattering into a thousand little pieces.

"Oh." I said softly. "Never mind."

"Now walk inside and invite me in." Instructed Connor.

"What?" I wasn't sure if I heard him right. "Why don't you just..."

"Do what I say and do it now." He interrupted.

"Uh, okay." I stepped inside the Townhouse, then turned to face him. "Please come in."

Connor walked inside. "Thank you."

"What was that all about?" I asked, totally confused about what just went down.

"Game face." Connor kept walking further into the house, not pausing to talk.

"Okay." I said to myself as I followed after him.

The house was fairly nice and well kept. No personal photos on the walls or anything like that, but there were some paintings that I could tell might cost a little bit of money. There were lots of plants, vases with flowers, white roses mostly and the Townhouse faintly smelled of vanilla.

We entered the living room and saw a man and a woman sitting at a foldout table playing poker. The man was bald and fairly muscular with lots of piercings and tattoos, though none matched the one that was tattooed on Goodwin's back. The woman was pretty, with waist length blonde hair, though she still had that hard look about her that made it seem like she could handle herself in a fight.

The man jumped up when he saw us, throwing his cards on the table and turning the music down with the remote.

"What the fuck you doing in my house man?"

"Who the hell are you?" Yelled the woman.

"Wait, we just wanted to talk." I said.

The man glanced past us for a second. "And what in the fuck did you do to my front door?"

"I'm sorry, it was..." I risked a brief glance behind and saw the devastated door frame and bits of shattered wood everywhere. "...it was like that when we came." I stammered.

"You're a lying bitch." The woman shrieked.

I fumbled in my purse, pulling out a picture of Goodwin, holding it out. "Do any of you know this man?" I asked. "His name is Goodwin. Terrence Goodwin."

The guy with all the tattoos picked up a baseball bat that was leaning up against the wall and began to walk towards us. "You come in my house, bust up my shit, then wanna ask me fucking questions?"

"Kick her ass baby!" Yelled the woman. "Fuck her up real good!"

"Sit down and tell your friend in the back to join us." Connor stated very calmly.

"Fuck you man!" The guy swung the baseball bat at my head as hard as he could. Just before it struck my face, Connor reached out and caught it in his hand.

The guy tried to pull the bat out of Connors grasp, but he couldn't, it wouldn't move an inch. Connor held it a moment longer and then squeezed. The bat shattered into a million little pieces. The man stepped back in amazement as the Louisville Slugger exploded apart in front of him, little fragments of wood flying everywhere.

"Sit down." Connor reiterated dispassionately. "And tell your friend in the back to join us. I won't ask again."

"Sure man, it's cool." The guy backed away slowly, palms up. "I got no beef bro." When he reached the table, he stumbled backward a little and fell into his seat. "Howard! Get your ass up here!" He called out.

A few seconds later a door opened and Howard came out in just his boxers, rubbing his puffy eyes. It was evident that he had just woken up. He had bright red shoulder length hair with a scruffy looking beard. "Come on man, you know I worked the late shift last..."

He paused when he saw Connor and myself.

"Who the fuck are you?" He asked.

Connor motioned to the table. "Sit down Howard."

"What?" Howard looked over at his friend. "Who the fuck is this guy?"

"Just sit down and shut the fuck up Howard." The woman whispered.

"Whatever." Howard begrudgingly took a seat.

"Okay, it's clear that we got off on the wrong foot, so let's try this again." I said. "First off, sorry about the door. In our defense we did knock."

"Bitch, what the fuck do you want?" Demanded the Woman.

"All righty then." I stammered. "Okay, my name is..."

Connor looked at me and shook his head.

"Right." I continued. "Who I am is not important. Let's just go around the table shall we, uh, we already know Howard there." I waved. "Hi Howard."

Howard confusingly waved back, then leaned over the blonde woman. "This is what you woke me up for?"

I pointed to the bald guy. "And you are?"

"Rabbit." He answered.

"Rabbit." I repeated. "I like that. And you?"

"Sarah." The blonde looked like she wanted to claw my eyes out.

"Okay, good. Let's see if I got it. Howard, Rabbit and Sarah." I pointed to each person as I said their name. "Did I get that right?"

None of them answered.

"Right. Whatever." I held up the picture again. "Do any of you know this man? His name is Terrence Goodwin."

"Nope." Exclaimed Sarah.

Rabbit leaned forward a bit to get a better look. "Never seen him before."

Howard just seemed confused about the whole situation. "Nah, I don't know who..."

~BLAM~

~BLAM~

Connor was standing next to me, his arm outstretched with the 38 pistol in his hand, the barrel smoking. The wall behind Sarah's head was splattered with her blood and grey brain matter. There was a bullet hole in her forehead and the back of her skull had exploded open.

Rabbit slumped forward in his chair, his head landing on the table with a sick thump as blood pooled around his face, the side of his head blown apart.

"Oh, I'm sorry." Connor said to Howard. "Did I just break your concentration?"

Howard was shaking with fright, his face and chest covered in his friend's blood. "Jesus man, who are you people?"

Everything happened so fast, I didn't...I didn't know he was gonna shoot them like that. He said that he wasn't going...why is she looking at me that way? She's dead, but the way she's just staring ahead, looking at me with those black, lifeless dead orbs...I rushed over to the sink and turned on the faucet, splashing cold water on my face. I needed it's cool touch to keep me from throwing up.

"Connor!" I yelled, running over to him, tears running down the side of my cheeks. "You said...you said you weren't going to kill anyone."

"I lied." He answered back, walking over towards Howard.

"You lied?" I repeated in disgust.

"Yes." He exclaimed. "I do that sometimes." He grabbed Howard by the hair, pulling his head back, then placed the muzzle of the gun flush against the top of his knee and pulled the trigger.

Howard screamed out in agony as his kneecap exploded into tiny pieces. "Fu..fu..fuck, man." He slurred.

"I'm going to ask you one more time." Connor snatched the picture of Goodwin out of my hand and shoved it in his face. "Do you know this person?"

"Yeah man, yeah, I know...the dude." Howard responded

"Good." Conner placed the picture on the table, then pushed Rabbit out of his chair, the dead man hitting the floor with a thud. Connor pulled up Rabbits chair in front of Howard then took a seat. "What was he doing in Florida?"

Howard was breathing hard, attempting to talk through the pain. "What? Florida man? How the hell...how the hell should I know?"

Connor placed the barrel flush against the top of Howard's other kneecap. "Don't make me shoot you again."

"Wait, waitwaitwaitwaitwait!" Stuttered Howard. "Florida. Right man, Florida, I remember. It was...it was a job, is all."

"What kind of job?"

"Recon." Answered Howard. "Just recon man, nothing...nothing serious. Just take some photographs...figure out his targets schedule and report...report back."

"You're lying." Connor grabbed the mans wounded knee with his hand then squeezed. Howard let out a howl as the pain almost caused him to black out.

"If he was sent for only recon, then why was he trying to kidnap his target?" Asked Connor.

"Kidnap? What?" Howard seemed confused. "If...Goodwin was trying to...trying to kidnap one of his targets...then he was way off the reservation. We were hired for...intel only."

"One of?" Connor repeated. "Then there were more?"

"Yeah man, yeah. Whole list of...people."

"Where's the list now?" Connor demanded

"It was Goodwin's show man, he was the H.N.I.C. The only other person who knew the list was our second in command, but..." Howard nodded towards Rabbits dead body. "I don't think he's in the right frame of mind to hold a conversation anymore." There was a dog howl down the street and Howard started laughing. "Oops."

Connor grabbed Howard's knee again with his free hand and squeezed while he shot him in the other kneecap.

"Fu..uu..uck man." Howard screamed. "That was... totally unnecessary. I'm telling you the truth. If the boss man isn't here, then Rabbit gets a call. Rabbit doles out the names. That's just...that's just the way...it works." There was another dog howl off in the distance.

"Who hired you?"

"Some...some dude." Howard said. "Just some dude, okay?"

"Some dude?" Connor repeated skeptically.

"Yeah man, some dude."

"What's this dude's name?"

"Guy calls himself the Translucent Man." Said Howard.

"The Translucent Man?" Connor reiterated. "Why do they call him that?

"How the fuck am I supposed to know?" Uttered Howard. "Maybe because he's see through? I wouldn't...I wouldn't know, I've never met him before."

I could hear one of the dogs barking outside.

"What's his real name!" Demanded Connor.

Howard began to laugh "Above my pay grade man."

Connor leaned in closer. "What's so funny."

"You hear that noise?" Howard asked.

Connor paused momentarily. "You mean the dog?"

"No man, not the dog, fuck the dog. Listen closer, you should be able to hear them now. I can hear them."

"Hear who Howard?"

"My Pack."

"Your...Pack?"

"Yeah man." Howard chuckled. "My Wolf Pack. Looks like your friend there has already started to get herself aquatinted."

Connor spun around and that's when he saw what was happening. I don't know when the other guy came into the house, but he moved silent. He had grabbed me from behind, clamped his hand over my mouth and put the machete to my throat about a split second before Connor spun around and realized the situation.

Whoever he was, he was big. Bigger then Connor by at least two hundred tattooed pounds. It was just him for now, but I could hear the howling getting closer. It wouldn't be long before Connor was outnumbered.

"Hello Werewolf." Connor took a step forward and the man pressed the machete even closer to my throat, drawing blood.

"You do all this?" The man growled. "You the one who killed my people?" I could feel the hair growing out of his arms.

"Do you like my handiwork?" Connor asked, motioning to the two dead bodies and Howard. "I would advise you to release my associate and I may just allow the both of you to live."

"You okay over there brother?" The man yelled.

"Yeah." Howard moaned. "Nothing that can't heal."

"I doubt that." Connor fired his weapon, shooting Howard once in the head, then turned back to face us. "Now, I'm a reasonable man. Please don't force me to do unreasonable things. Release my friend and I give you my word, I'll let you walk out of here with your life, but if you don't..." Connor fired once more, catching a Pack member as he entered the front door of the Townhouse with a headshot, the man's body stumbling back out, dead before he hit the ground.

The guy who held me captive let out a soul deafening wail, yet as he did, his face began to make a sickening sound as the bones in his skull fractured and splintered, restructuring itself into something new. Hair began to grow at terrifying speeds across his arms, torso, neck and face while his nose elongated into a snout and his teeth sharpened into something akin to a lions maw.

His body was transmuting into something other than human, lycanthrope in nature, yet still retaining its original humanoid form. Through it all, he never once released his grip on me, nor the machete at my throat and in just mere seconds the façade of his mortal face had taken on the bestial visage of a wolfs head, an illustrious coat of brown fur encompassing his body, his fingers now razor talons.

"Here we go." Connor whispered to himself. "Now, I'll give you all fair warning. If you touch me, I'll kill you..." Someone grabbed him by the shoulder yet Connor clutched the man's wrist, twisting the arm, flipping his attacker over his shoulder. When the man hit the ground, Connor shot him once in the head. "...just like that."

Connor looked around as the house filled with members of the Wolf Pack, some still in human form while others, morphing into something bestial, a horrifying hybrid of man and wolf which towered over Connor, despite him being six feet tall himself.

"Okay." Connor dropped his gun on the ground, the clip empty. "Hard way it is then."

"Greetings Vampire." A Man in an all-white suit entered from outside, the Pack spreading apart like Noah and the Red Sea as he made his way towards the kitchen. He looked around the blood-spattered room. "Seems you've made quite the first impression."

"I'm just warming up." Connor replied.

"I'll bet you are." The man turned towards one of his Pack members. "Inform the Translucent Man that we are in possession of one of the items he requested." The Pack member darted off out the front door before Connor had a chance to stop him.

"My name is Bartholomew Kruger." The man in white came closer, the remaining members of the Pack keeping their distance.

Connor shrugged. "Never heard of you."

"This is my house. This is my Pack." Kruger stated. "These are my brothers and sisters that you've murdered here today."

"Then they should have answered my questions when I asked." Connor seemed unafraid. At least that made one of us.

"Well, Connor, is it? Let's just say turnabout is fair play." Bartholomew Kruger stated. "You're going to answer my questions now and if you don't, well..."

Connors arms from the elbows down went up in flame and as he spoke fire sparked from his eyes. "I'll burn this bitch down with you still inside it."

Kruger just smiled. "The Vampire fire starter. I've heard whispers of you in the dark."

"If you harm her then everybody dies." Connor stated.

"I'm good with that." Bartholomew Kruger said. "I haven't died once all week. What does the Translucent Man want with your friend here?"

I could tell Connor was trying to size up the situation, trying to play out the odds in his mind. There were just so many of them, at least fifteen easy. Fifteen Werewolves versus one Vampire. I stared at his arms, the way they were aflame, yet they were not burning him at all. Somehow he was in control of the fire, yet how he was doing it I couldn't even begin to imagine. Even the color of the flame was different, burning blue instead of red.

"I don't know." Connor admitted.

"I believe you." Bartholomew said, even though he seemed somewhat disappointed. "Looks like we're off to a good start.

"Who is the Translucent Man?" Connor asked.

Kruger made a frown. "I have my theories." He finally admitted. "None of them exceptionally pleasant. In the end however, we are all just puppets and the Translucent Man is the ventriloquist."

"We came here because your man was trying to kidnap my friend."

Kruger nodded in agreement. "Yes, I know."

"I killed him."

"Among others." Said Bartholomew Kruger.

"No one makes a move like that in my city without permission and not expect consequences." Connor explained. "I'm sure a man of your...stature would understand that."

"Yes, I do." Kruger declared. "Which is why I've allowed you to still breath after the atrocities you have committed here. Terrence was not supposed to engage the target, only to locate then report back. I was well aware that Palm Coast was claimed territory, your territory to be exact and I did not wish to antagonize someone with such a...colorful reputation."

Bartholomew Kruger stood in front of me, looking me up and down, before turning to Connor. "But Terrence was a good soldier and if he decided to deviate off script then he had his reasons. So now I find myself in possession of an item that the ambiguous Translucent Man so desperately desires, an item that caused one of my best men to disobey orders and attempt to capture himself. Not to mention the fact that the Vampire Connor is here, in my city, killing my Wolf Pack, threatening to burn down my house, all while declaring himself sole protector of said item."

"What's a Wolf to do?" Connor asked sarcastically.

"What is the Mark of Pandora?" Bartholomew Kruger asked.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Connor exclaimed.

Kruger heaved a sigh. "Then everybody dies."

I felt a sharp pain in my back and chest. It became hard to breath and I could taste blood in my mouth. I glanced down and saw the tip of a bloody machete sticking out my stomach. Someone had stabbed me, ran a machete directly through my body from back to front. I drooped forward, sliding off the blade and tumbled forward.

Connor caught me before I hit the ground.

It was so hard to breath. Everything was getting dark, shadows creeping in around the edge of my vision threatening to black out everything. Connor was stroking my hair, his face stoic. He didn't speak, but I could see everything he wanted to say in his eyes.

"There are a couple of ways this can play out." Bartholomew said. "You can waste time trying to fight us, but I don't think she has that much time left, do you?"

Connor still didn't speak.

"There is another option." Continued Kruger.

He continued to talk but I couldn't hear him anymore, it was like he was too far away. Connor was saying something, but I couldn't understand him, the pain was blocking everything out. I started coughing. There was so much blood in my mouth that it was difficult to breath. I knew I was dying, I could recognize that feeling you get when deaths icy fingers sends chills across your soul once he gains a good grip on it.

Connor was whispering in my ear again, an address in Oakland he wanted me to try to get to. He made a point to give his blessing, that I was allowed to enter the apartment, then he shoved his keys in my pocket. There was a sudden commotion then as all the bodies around me began exploding in balls of flame, coupled with the intense sound of fighting and furniture breaking apart.

It was a war zone. It could barely see now, but I heard Connor screaming for me to run, so I did. I was out the Townhouse suddenly and when I turned around it was on fire, a blazing inferno. I could hear screaming inside, they were still fighting, but I couldn't tell who was winning.

I fell against our car, my hand on my wound to try and stop the bleeding. I couldn't concentrate anymore, I was blacking out for seconds at a time now and it was becoming increasingly difficult to maintain consciousness.

All of the tires were flat on Connors car, so I just started running down the street, hoping I wasn't being followed. I just needed to get away as fast as I could and not put any more innocent people in danger. There wasn't anyone I could call that the Werewolves wouldn't be able to tear to shreds if they found them with me.

I got about two blocks before I saw the BART, the Bay Area's Rapid Transit system entrance, what they called the subway here on the West coast and I rushed towards it, stumbling down the escalator, almost collapsing once I got to the bottom. I shoved a handful of dollar bills to pay for my fare and then ran up the platform. There was a train waiting and I rushed to catch it, the doors closing just after I entered. I collapsed in a seat and looked at my hand. It was covered in blood.

I needed to stop the bleeding and I needed to do it now. What I really needed was a hospital, but I couldn't risk going to one here, maybe a couple of stops down the line, put some distance between the Werewolves and myself.

Connor...

I leaned my head against the window, I didn't have any strength left, I couldn't even keep my eyes open anymore and breathing had become the most painful experience I had ever taken part of. I...I just needed a minute to catch my breath. Just a minute, that's all I need. I just need to....but I was unconscious before I could finish my thought.
Chapter 16

I think therefore I am...what?

From the moment I opened my eyes I knew something was wrong. I sat up slowly, the weathered bench that I had fallen asleep on damp, the wetness already soaked completely through. As the wind stirred in the Fruitvale Bart Station, the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end.

Everything around me was wet, even the air tasted of moisture. Had it rained? But when? When did it rain? I tried to stand, but it was difficult. At first I stumbled, barely able to catch myself before crashing to the concrete. It was dark, darker than it should be, the Fruitvale Terminal unnaturally still and quite.

I didn't see Connor anywhere. I was alone in the terminal and it took a second for me to get my bearings. I checked my watch. 4:45 am. That made me pause. It's been over six hours.

The last thing I remembered was someone pulling a machete out of my gut at the Townhouse where Goodwin lived. The place was crawling with...Werewolves of all things. It was Goodwin's Pack members and that domicile was their Den. Connor told me to run and that's exactly what I did. He said he was going to hold them back and he would meet me at a safe house later. I checked my stomach were I was stabbed, dried blood was caked up around the slit in my shirt, but the wound was gone, completely healed.

There wasn't even a scar.

How is that possible? Wound like that, without medical attention, stitches, I should be dead twice over and yet I wasn't. It was as if it never happened. I remember making it to the Bart station and finding a seat away from all the other passengers, then nothing.

Everything after that was black. I shook my head, trying futilely to clear my thoughts, attempting to focus, but it was utterly pointless. The pain was gone and my joints no longer ached; yet, my mind was racing, incoherently so, useless facts flooding my brain all at once.

I pushed these things aside, compartmentalizing the thoughts and tried to focus on tonight, trying to figure out what my next move was. I turned once, spun on my heels a little too quickly than planned, expecting a head rushing dizzy spell, but it didn't happen.

There was a poster on the wall; the backdrop was completely red with white graffiti sprawled across it. The poster read: The Mutant among us may be YOU! I'd seen these types of posters before, popping up in back alleyways in Palm Coast. I thought they were for a new movie, but here in the Bay Area, they took on a completely different vibe.

It felt like there was actual meaning behind it.

I checked the wall map of the city, then made my way towards the steps leading downstairs. No need to wait here considering I was roughly fourteen blocks from the address Connor told me to meet him at. It wasn't until I reached the fourth step down, the pain started.

It was gradual at first, yet it came on with such increasing force that I doubled over. My foot slipped and I had to force myself to grab the handrail to keep from falling. There was a thudding in my ears, impossibly loud, almost to the point of being deafening.

That's when the burning started.

It began in my chest, working its way up to my esophagus in rapid succession. It felt as if my throat was on fire. The inner flame wrapped itself around my head as if tiny burning fingertips were massaging my brain.

Something began to bubble up inside of me, working its way through my veins, driven by the insane pumping of my heart. I never thought a heart could beat that fast, that intense, a tunnel vision ferocity of single mindedness.

I began to heave. Well, at first I thought that was what I was doing before a stream of dark crimson splashed the steps in front of me. Blood. And a lot of it. I tried to stop, but I couldn't. My body had taken a mind of its own and its only thought was to bleed me dry.

There was so much blood and it was everywhere. The steps, the side of the wall, the handrail. It was a crime scene now. That's how much blood there was and when I finally stopped throwing up the one thing that separated me from a lifeless corpse, bloated swollen with formaldehyde, all I could do was collapse back on the top step, my head in between my knees as I desperately tried to regulate my breathing to something more manageable.

My breath was coming in haggard gasps, my lungs fighting to oxygenate the few little remaining blood cells I had left. Tears streaked down the side of my face, striking the ground, pooling together in little red puddles on the floor.

Why are my tears red?

Yet before I could even begin to ponder the significance of that question a new sensation began to overtake me. The pain had all but subsided, replaced instead with a cooling calm effect that was so intensely profound that it forced me to my feet in one fluid motion.

I didn't even feel my legs move.

I gripped the handrail to steady myself, squeezing the metal beneath my fingers tightly. My mouth was bitter, the dull, flat metallic taste of blood seemingly overpowering my senses. My head swooned as I swallowed, the blood tainted salvia in my mouth changing texture.

I licked my lips. The blood tasted...different. The thundering returned. Why were my ears so sensitive? I attempted to tune it out, somehow block the rhythmic pounding in my eardrums.

Thumpthump. Thumpthump. Thumpthump.

It was getting louder, stronger, more powerful with every ear-shattering beat. It was getting...closer? I closed my eyes again, concentrating on the precious sound, my own heartbeat attempting to synchronize with the pounding until it matched itself to the deafening crescendo that played within my head.

"Jesus!"

The sound of another human being snapped me out of the lethargic trance that had enthralled my senses so fully.

I opened my eyes.

There was a uniformed police officer a few steps down from me, an expression of terror playing across his hard features. His eyes never left the gallons of blood splattered across the steps and walls. I could see it in his face, the horror of it all. I watched his thoughts play out as I stared at my reflection in his eyes.

I was drenched in blood. From my shirt to my jeans and shoes. Blood dripped from my hands, my chin and the amount of blood that splattered my surroundings like a Jackson Pallet portrait was ridiculous. No one person could lose that much blood and still be alive.

The Cop reached for his standard issued nine-millimeter Beretta, pointing it in my direction. "Hands over your head! On your knees!"

I tried to speak, attempt to explain, yet my mouth refused to listen to my mind, refused to acknowledge the words that were so palatable on my tongue that I could almost taste them. I couldn't concentrate, couldn't focus on anything other than that blasted thumpthump, thumpthump.

It had speeded up now and...

"On your knees! Do it now!" Bellowed the Cop at the top of his lungs.

I released my grip on the handrail. There were deep indentions in the metal where my fingers had been wrapped around the bar. Odd that I didn't notice that before.

I placed my hands behind my head and took a knee, the deep pool of sticky wet on the steps soaking into my jeans at the knees. The Cop took a tentative step forward, speaking into his Walkie Talkie.

"Possible 187 in progress at the Oakland, Fruitvale Station. Suspect: Caucasian female, approximately five foot three, one hundred and ten pounds, covered in what appears to be human blood. Suspect in custody. Officer requesting assistance."

I should have been scared, but I wasn't. Something had clicked inside of me as I stared at this man with the loaded weapon in my face. It wasn't like before, when Goodwin shoved that gun at my head and I was so scared that I didn't know what to do. There was no terror that overtook my senses now, no panic that froze me in place.

This Cop, he seemed so fragile to me. As if the slightest gale would scatter his limbs to the wind. The vein in his neck throbbed with each beat of his heart and I realized the thundering in my ears was in fact the adrenaline laced pounding of the officer's heartbeat.

I could smell the beads of sweat as they trickled down the side of his temple. Taste the putrid smell of his breath on my tongue. That's when the urge overtook me.

It was so overpowering, so all encompassing that it worked its way through every sinewy fiber of my being. All I wanted was blood. I had already licked my lips clean, savoring? Yes, savoring, that's the word I would use to describe it. I was savoring the taste of it, the taste of blood.

I craved more.

No matter how hard I tried to fight off these murderous designs of filling my mouth full of this man's blood, to the point that it over flowed out the corners of my lips, I couldn't. My throat burned for more and my body tensed as the Cop came closer, gun in one hand, handcuffs in the other.

That vein!

I couldn't take my eyes off it!

The way it throbbed in concert with the thundering in my ears. I let out a growl, but it didn't come out as any sound I had ever heard of before in my life. It was bestial in nature, Predator like. So disturbing in fact, the Cop froze in his tracks.

Nevertheless, by then it was already too late.

I lunged at the man, or rather my body did. Everything was on autopilot, my body trying to satisfy what my conscious mind state was unwilling to comprehend.

My hand wrapped around his wrist and when I tightened my grip, I could hear the bones crunching underneath the sheer force of it, crumbling like so much brittle timber weed. The gun went off. I could feel the breeze generated by the bullet across my cheek as the round whizzed past only centimeters from my face.

He tried to scream, but by then I had already buried my face in his neck. I could taste his skin on my tongue. It was salty with sweat and fear. I could feel him struggling against me, fighting with every ounce of strength he possessed; yet it was pointless. My free arm wrapped around his waist, pinning his body against mine.

Now I considered myself decently strong for my size, but this guy had at least a hundred and twenty pounds of muscle on me easy. But my grip was steel coated in iron, dipped in that metal they made Wolverines skeleton from and I held him in place, despite his fervent struggles, as easy as one would hold a pillow to the chest.

I had to pull myself away from the body, physically forcing myself to recoil.

I wanted more. I wanted to gorge myself on his blood, to devour it totally. I released my grip around the Cop's waist, the limp corpse slumping to the ground unceremoniously. His throat was torn out and blood flowed freely from the wound, almost incensing a frenzy from me as I backed away slowly from the dead body.

What had I done?

I just murdered a man. Killed another living, breathing, sentient being with my bare hands. Not only that, but I drank his blood as well. Yet instead of disgust, there was only...satisfaction?

Connor what have you done to me?

I felt even stronger now, a seemingly unending amount of adrenaline coursing through my system, filling each limb with grandiose potential. I thrust my hands into my pockets. I could hear sirens and it was enough to put me into action.

No way was I about to wait around for reinforcements to arrive, not after murdering one of their own. I glanced around and saw one of the many security cameras aligning the walls of the Fruitvale Bart Station. The Security Office was to my left and I made a beeline towards the door, turning the handle.

Locked.

I turned harder, this time slamming my shoulder into the door as well. To my utter astonishment, the door tore free from the hinges, my shoulder placing a sizable dent in the metal door. When I released the handle, there was just a mangled lump of metal where the doorknob should have been.

What the hell was happening to me? All I wanted to do was sit down, to replay the last ten minutes of my life, try to grasp the ramifications of my actions tonight, but I knew now wasn't the time.

I scanned the room and found what I was looking for aligned against one of the walls. Two Cop cars pulled into the Bart parking lot, their actions being recorded and displayed on one of the many monitors in front of me. It was a canine unit. I could smell the German Shepard from here.

How is that even possible?

I gave the security equipment a once over then pressed the eject button. A small, black plastic DVD tray opened in front of me. I removed the disk and placed it in my pocket. Countless episodes of C.S.I. Miami and Law and Order taught me that homicides caught on video equals a life sentence with the possible option of a needle in the arm.

I never did sit well with needles.

The scent of gunpowder coming steadily closer caused me to run. Fourteen blocks. That's how long it would take for me to be safe, however safe one could be when wanted for homicide and being hunted by a pack of Werewolves.

Everything around me looked wrong.

I just left the Bart station, 15 maybe 20 seconds ago. I hadn't even reached a good sprint, yet the address I was running to was less than two blocks away now. There it was right there. I could see it! Twelve blocks in under 30 seconds! This has to be a dream, but even that didn't make sense; everything was just too real, my emotions to raw for it to be fabricated, so it can't be that.

Yet here I was, already done with the two remaining blocks in less time it took me to think two blocks. I kept moving, barley pausing at the security gate. I hit the first step leading to the second floor and jumped, my intent on taking the steps two by two.

Instead, I landed on the second floor catwalk!

I glanced down the stairwell, calculating the distance from bottom to top. There was no way I should have made that jump. It was just too far, too many steps involved.

I'm hallucinating. The blood, the dead Cop, how fast I made it to Connors apartment and now this? My clothes were still damp with blood, sticky to the flesh and I could still taste that Cops blood in my mouth, sliding down my throat like human bloody Mary.

And yet...

I bounded up the second floor steps, landing on the third floor catwalk without even the slightest hint of sound. Amazing! I fumbled for the keys, my hand shaking from sheer excitement as I tried each one until the door unlocked and I ducked inside.

It was dark; none of the lights in the entire apartment was on, yet I could see perfectly fine. Like my eyes no longer needed illumination to operate. I just stood there, unmoving, marveling at how calm I've remained throughout this entire ordeal. So calm in fact, that I began to question my own sanity.

I could tell the place was empty. Not because I checked any of the rooms, I was well aware of the fact that I hadn't moved an inch, in like, the past 15 minutes, but rather I didn't hear or smell anyone inside the apartment. It was as if my senses were on blast at the moment, the nerve endings ablaze as my body calibrated my system for the massive informational blitz that had assaulted my newly enhanced abilities.

Where the hell was Connor? He said he would meet me here. Maybe he's running late? Maybe he got here before I did and left? Maybe he never got here at all and they killed him?

Whatever the case, I needed a shower. Badly. My head was beginning to swoon again. It was the blood splattered against my clothing. I hadn't paid attention to it until now, but the smell was almost potent in toxicity.

I took my shirt off, holding it crumpled in my hand, staring at the blood stained mass of cloth. I brought it to my nose, burying my face into it as I inhaled deeply, the blood craving momentarily overriding my natural state.

Before I knew what was happening I was licking the damp blood with my tongue and when I was finished, after there wasn't another drop of blood on my entire shirt that I hadn't licked, I removed my pants and repeated the process all over again.

Now one would think that the act of licking blood off your own apparel would and should freak me out, disgust me in one shape, form or fashion, but it didn't. Not only did I move, see, and smell differently than my former self of just twenty-four hours ago, but my thought process had been altered as well.

Fear was almost nonexistent at this point, chipped away to all most nothingness. Despite what I tried to convince myself earlier, everything that was happening tonight was real and I was wanted for the brutal murder of a police officer, yet somehow I just didn't care.

I wasn't fearful of retaliation, of being corned in some random alley, surrounded by revenge driven cops. That didn't even register a 1.0 on the things you really don't want to happen to you, scale.

Don't even get me started on Bartholomew Kruger and his Wolf Pack. They just seemed inconsequential at this point, their threat level demoted into oblivion. Nothing could touch me, nothing could hurt me. The sense of overwhelming power that was coursing through my system was intoxicating. Is this how Connor feels all the time?

I examined myself in the bathroom mirror, the amount of detail I was able to identify mind-boggling. Everything was sharper, crisper, as if up until now I had been living my life with the clarity of VHS tape. But now my 3D HD eyes were open wide.

I still looked like me...somewhat at least.

There were differences however, though it was difficult to pinpoint each exact one individually, rather than the portrait as a whole. I was still me, but the reflection that stared back was a prettier, photoshopped version of myself. Everything was smoothed out, not a blemish or wrinkle evident. My bone structure seemed more prevalent, my face taking on a more chiseled appearance.

It was the eyes that stood out the most, their color changing entirely. Now my eyes originally changed color by nature, yet now they sparked a bright blue, as if someone had replaced my iris with sapphires that seemingly sparkled like diamonds when the light danced across them at just the right angle.

I felt tired, really tired all of a sudden, as if the rush from the blood had finely began to ebb. I climbed in the shower, letting the steaming water stream onto my face. I washed my body, not stopping until the river of blood at my feet whirl pooling down the drain changed from diluted red to clear.

I neither dried nor wrapped a towel around my body when I was done. Scooping up all my bloody clothes, I tossed them haphazardly in a black trash bag, tying the bag off in a knot as tightly as I could. I tossed the bag in the closet, my intention being to burn everything later.

The bed was nice and neat, pillows still fluffed from whenever they were last made. The alarm clock next to the nightstand blinked: 5:15 a.m. as I climbed into the bed, underneath the covers. I closed my eyes and attempted to sleep.
Chapter 17

A new dawn...

Unconsciousness over took me almost immediately, the inky blackness somewhat an eerie welcome and yet, in the comfort of REM sleep; even the Dreamscape had changed for me.

I was fully aware of everything. The fact that I was dreaming, the fact that I knew I was dreaming, to the fact that I knew, I knew I was dreaming was just so strange. In this dream, there were no Vampires trying to kill me, no Dreamself version of me wielding the Blade of Osiris demanding I answer her questions.

Instead of a forest grove, I walked the back alleyways of some unnamed metropolitan masterpiece. It was dark, yet on the horizon I could briefly make out the rising morning sun between the metallic glass and iron skyscrapers that surrounded me and beyond that, a colossal mountain that seemed to go on for eternity.

There was a faint scent lingering in the air, something on fire, burning. I tried to follow the smell, attempting to use my new prenatural senses to track it back to its source, climbing up this mountain, searching for its ever-elusive peak.

There was a sharp pain in my thigh. At first, the sensation intrigued me. Even bodily pain for me was different. It didn't hurt at first, but it just as quickly became unbearable as it began to travel up my leg and into my torso.

The pain was excruciating and the smell, that scent was everywhere now, it flavored the air with the aroma of burnt flesh and...cotton?

Even through all the pain, I was still able to dissect the burning cotton stench commingled with all the others. I snapped awake, fighting off the stifling scream that was building in my chest.

The bed was on fire!

I was on fire!

My leg and part of my stomach was ablaze, the mattress underneath me acting as kindling. I jumped up, my mind frantic. I raced to the bathroom. No sooner had I thought the word, I was already there, moving so fast that I didn't even see it happen, the only evidence being the burning footprints scorched into the carpet.

I turned the shower on, letting the water dose my body. Steam and smoke was everywhere as my skin hissed and crackled. As good as the cool water felt against my charred skin, I couldn't prolong my time there any longer. I raced back towards the bedroom, but it was too late, everything was ablaze at this point. The heat from the inferno was so intense that the bedroom windows buckled then shattered, shards of glass exploding everywhere, raining down on the street outside like razor sharp confetti.

Time, linear as it is, stood still as the next few seconds stretched out for eternity. My first instinct was for the fire extinguisher, yet even as I tried, moving with this increased agility afforded to me now, my mistake became self-evident almost immediately.

The fire extinguisher was in the kitchen. Between me and it was a living room bathed in early morning sunlight. My body, from the waist down was blackened and charred to an unfathomable degree, my nerve endings sending sporadic amounts of intense pain throughout my entire body. Mentally, I was able to block it off, force the pain into my own little personal Pandora's Box, as I darted towards the kitchen.

That was my first mistake.

As soon as I entered the living room, even moving at blinding speed, my entire body burst into flame, the fire enveloping me completely, so intense the air itself seemed to protest.

I screamed in agony, collapsing into a fiery fetal position.

That was my second mistake.

As I lay, a bright fireball, seemingly burning from the inside out, the flames raced along in every direction, consuming everything in its path. In a matter of seconds almost everything was ablaze, the couch, the drapes, the ceiling, everything was burning. Little streaks of flame worked its way across the carpet, playing an arsonists game of tag with everything it touched.

Now one would think that trial by fire would be quick...

That was my third mistake...

I'm not sure how long I was there, burning quietly in the early morning sunrise. My mind had turned itself inward by this point, the pain unbearable. At some point the roof in the bedroom collapsed, of this I was dimly aware, but I couldn't recall exactly when it happened, I just knew that it did.

I wasn't frightened of death. I never have been. Not since the car accident at least. It's just the cycle of life. So no, I don't fear death and death, of this I'm certain, was waiting...

So I accepted my fate, not that I'd given up mind you, my body had simply shut down, refusing to acknowledge my commands to relocate back...back in...hard to...shower. Move...now? Plea...se move, pretty bells. Hells bells a ri...nging...Tulips for...pancakes now...fresh burgers. No...mamma green...eggs and ham mean...mold...can't be broken. Bloo...blood...kiss...mine...mine...give...no...take...mine... yours...mine...now...blood...

Mineminemineminemineminebloodbloodbloodblood!

I came too suddenly, had I blacked out again? My mind was pristine, my body pain free. Someone was screaming. The fire was everywhere around me, a prison of fire. Something was in my arms. More yelling. Wait...not something, someone. A man. Late thirties.

His throat was torn out.

Oh God, his throat is torn out! What is he...yellow uniform...helmet. Man. Fire. Fireman. He's a fireman. There was more yelling, angrier this time and a lot closer. God, did I do this? Did I do this to him?

"..uck away from him!"

My head snapped to the left. There was another Firefighter waving his firefighters axe menacingly in my direction. God, what have I done? Did I kill this man? Did I rip his throat out and gorge myself on his blood?

The inferno still raged around us, yet my body itself was no longer burning. In fact, most of the burns had healed across a good portion of my skin. It was the blood. It had to be and yet somehow this man, this perfectly innocent human being, who risked his life charging head first into burning buildings only found deaths embrace waiting for him by other means.

I rose, dumping the corpse of a man I had been cradling to the ground.

My strength had returned somewhat, yet in the end it would be too late. The burning ground beneath my feet collapsed suddenly and I began to fall. After that...blackness.
Chapter 18

As we proceed...

When a dream dreams a dream of itself dreaming, is it still a dream? Or have we just come full circle only to begin to dream again? Would that still be considered a dream or would that be considered nightmare?

I awoke to pain and darkness. No, let me rephrase that. I awoke to intense pressure against my body and the encompassing darkness that comprises it. Initially I tried to stand, but unseen weight held me in place, huddled close in the tight confines of blackness.

I tried again, this time putting in more effort, pushing upward with all my strength at the forefront, determined to free myself from the all-encompassing prison of nothingness.

It wasn't hard displacing the weight that held me stationary. Suddenly I could see again and with that, my hearing returned as well. With the return of my senses came the astute awareness that I was buried alive, deep beneath the burnt down rubble of what used to be the apartment complex where Connor's safe house was located. It was destroyed of course, burned to a shambling husk of a thing. A normal woman would have died.

But I am not a normal woman anymore.

I pulled myself through the rubble, yet even with my increased...everything, it still took me considerable time to claw my way through the charred debris. The site had been quarantined off, the broken beams and blacked chunks of concrete still searing to the touch. These things burned themselves into my flesh as I maneuvered my way towards freedom, yet I still managed to emerge relatively unscathed.

The city was alive, backlit by a stunning full moon that lit up the sprawling metropolis with an almost eerie illumination. As strange as it should have been, the sight of a nude girl crawling her way out of a burnt wreckage raised hardly any eyebrows at all.

I needed clothes. Immediately. I ducked into the adjoining alley, passing a group of teenagers standing on the corner, smoking blunts and freestyling in a small circle. They laughed, made snide remarks and lewd gestures. Someone gave me the finger. Someone else decided to throw a half-full 40-ounce bottle of beer at me.

Just before it struck the back of my skull, I turned and caught it, drained the bottle fully, then let it drop to the concrete, the empty beer bottle shattering against the alleyway blacktop. The small crowd of kids erupted in laughter as I ducked further into the alley, beyond their human line of sight and found what I was looking for.

I reached down and picked up a small piece of broken cinderblock, flipping it over and over in the palm of my hand, testing its weight and then used it to smash in the driver's side window of a nearby vehicle.

I opened the car door and climbed inside, wiping off the broken bits of glass that covered the front seat. I popped the trunk, then headed towards the rear of the automobile.

Someone was yelling out from their apartment window that overlooked the alleyway.

"Hey! Yeah you, the stupid naked bitch braking into peoples shit! Yeah, you buddy, I called the Cops! Put some fucking clothes on, them titties ain't that nice! I got kids up here for Christ sake!"

Awesome...

Like I needed another run in with law enforcement. Whatever. By the time they get here...even if they get here, this is Oakland after all, I'll be ghost by then, especially since I found what I was looking for. In the trunk was a spare set of clothes, nothing extravagant mind you, just a shirt that was a size to small and a pair of jeans a size to big.

Wish there were some shoes as well, but it wasn't like it hurt to walk barefoot. I got dressed quickly and then I ran. Fast. Really, really fast. It was utterly amazing, the amount of speed I could garner.

Now I wasn't Barry Allen, Bart Allen, Speed Force fast, nothing that quick, but I was able to move unnoticed among the populace that was out an about. I learned that if I ran, then came to a dead stop next to someone, it was as if I just materialized next to them, appearing as some maligned apparition from nothing. Freaks people the hell out.

Pretty good for a laugh though.

I was faster than the cars rice-rocket racing down International Blvd, passing them with ease, the drivers never even taking notice. Unconsciously I made my way towards San Francisco, back towards Goodwin's Townhouse to see if I could pick up any trace of Connor.

I began to slow my speed, coming to a more...respectable pace as I neared Pier 39, blending in with the nightlife. My thoughts were turned inward, plotting my next move and how I should approach the Werewolf Den without them catching my scent or revealing my...

"When was the last time you spoke?"

I paused, realizing the question was aimed at myself. I was in the middle of Pier 39, a quaint little shopping area tucked away within eyeshot of the infamous Alcatraz prison. There was a man, elderly by anyone's account, British, though his English was somewhat...different.

I cocked my head at an angle that wasn't altogether humanly possible and made my way towards him. The question intrigued me because it was true; I hadn't spoken since, well, since before...everything.

The man spoke again: "How many people have you murdered tonight...Vampire?"

The last word hit me like a sledgehammer to the chest.

"Is that what I am?"

"Yes, Vampire, that is what you are and forever will be."

I was dumbfounded, yet not surprised. The signs were all there. The aversion to sunlight, the blood craving, the ambiguous feeling I had after killing that Cop. The man smiled at me, nothing insidious, yet it wasn't warmth inducing either.

We locked eyes for the briefest of moments and a hint of familiarity overtook me before he stood from his wicker chair and walked into some small, Mom and Pop, hole in the wall Bodega behind him.

I just stood there, uncertain of my next move. Vampire. Yes, that is what he said. Vampire. That's what Connor did to me. That's what he was turning me into when my mouth filled with blood. I didn't know it was his blood! I brushed my hand against my stomach where the stab wound should have been.

I wanted to follow the old guy, my mind flooded with unanswered questions, yet curiosity killed the cat. However in this case, am I the cat or am I the killer?

More than likely, both.

No one heard our conversation, the world around me continued to carry on, content on fulfilling the next-next in their ever mundane lives. Yet my life was anything but mundane, rather it was its polar opposite, a topsy turvy ride with no seat belts, no brakes and no one at the helm.

I hesitated, not sure what to do next. My first compulsion was to follow after this white haired British man, to gain the answers locked away in that brain of his. Even as outlandish as his claims would appear to the uninitiated, his words struck a cord and now there was nothing left except to listen to the tune it played.

Casually, I made my way into the shop, a bell ringing inside the store when the door opened. I wasn't sure exactly what it was the Bodega sold being that there wasn't any price tagged items to be bought within eyeshot. Candles burned everywhere, the scent intoxicatingly potent. Books lined the wall and one could tell without any educational prowess that the texts where ancient.

"Why have you followed me...Vampire?" The old man sat at an intricately detailed mahogany table towards the rear. He stared at me with cold black eyes awaiting my response.

"Who are you?" I asked, not moving from the front of the door.

"And why would I tell you that?" He fired out from that decrepit little chair he rested in. He was wary, as well he should be. If a Vampire stood between me and the only exit, I might be a little cautious as well.

"If you could explain...anything at all about what is happening to me, I would eternally be in your debt."

His face softened somewhat, however his voice remained harshly accusing. "Forever is a long time, girl."

"Then consider yourself lucky I can't die." I replied.

The door behind me opened, a young couple, no older than twenty stepping inside. I closed my eyes involuntarily, the scent of their blood instantaneously overpowering, their heartbeat echoing in my ears. I tried to block it out, to fight the blood craze that was burning in my throat.

It was happening again, the uncontrollable urge to kill, to drive my teeth into their necks and let their blood flow into me like some obsidian fountain of youth whose black waters promise life in exchange for death.

It was stronger than I'd ever felt before, stronger than the urge to kill that Fireman at my apartment, stronger then when I drained that Cop dry and left his battered, broken body discarded like last night's leftovers.

The couple seemed oblivious to what was going on around them, ignorant to the fact that they stumbled upon deaths doorway and someone had left it ajar.

"I told you this wasn't the place." The young woman stated to her companion. "Looks like they only sell books here."

"I'm telling you, this is it." He countered.

"Does it look like they sell shrimp here, Johnny?" She replied sarcastically.

I couldn't take it any longer. My teeth had sharpened. My hands, the tips of my fingers felt like talons ready to dig into their flesh and render their souls inoperable. My eyes snapped opened, I could see the old man watching, yet he made no move to intervene, gave no hint of a warning.

"Get out!" I demanded suddenly, speaking the words before I even registered the thought.

"Excuse me?" The boy was full of intentional bravado. Wolf tickets for the benefit of his lady friend. But I was in no mood for paper tigers.

"Leave this place. NOW!" This time there was more force behind it. Human force, because if I let my Vampiric side take the forefront...they would be dead by now.

"Look, I don't know who you think you are..."

The woman grabbed his arm. "Johnny, look at her eyes!"

Damn, they must be glowing. My body is kicking into full Vampire mode and I don't know how to stop it!

"Fuck her and her contacts!" The boy exclaimed violently.

Poor, poor Johnny Boy. I do not see this ending very well for you.

He went to speak again, to jab his finger in my face, but it was too late for him now. I grabbed his wrist with my hand, twisting it to the point of breaking, then beyond, the bones in his wrist crumbling like so much paper mâché underneath my fingertips. I gripped his throat with my free hand, hoisting him off his feet.

The woman began to come to his defense.

"STOP!" I commanded. She froze, graveyard still, eyes glazed over in a haze. "You will leave this place and NEVER return!"

"I will...leave this place...and never come back." She repeated in a dull monotone voice.

Johnny began to struggle. I squeezed his wrist even tighter. Something popped and he ceased fidgeting.

"If you EVER see me again, you will turn and run the other way. Do you understand? Because if you don't...you will die."

"Yes. When in your presence, death is eminent."

"That's a good girl." I threw Johnny to ground, the fear in his eyes speaking trilogies without a single script being read.

"Leave this place." I repeated, my voice barely above a whisper. This time there was no hesitation from them, no pause. They scampered towards the doorway into the night beyond and I locked the door behind them.

The urge to kill, to feast was so strong within me, so vibrant, that I knew it was almost next to impossible for me to get into another situation like that and the other person remain unscathed.

"I...apologize for my behavior." I proclaimed in all honesty.

The old man finally broke his vow a silence. "You showed immense restraint, Vampire."

I just shook my head. "No, no, I lost it. I almost killed that guy."

"Almost."

"I couldn't compose myself. I shattered that dude's wrist."

The old man's harden visage broke down somewhat.

"Sometimes you just need to check a bitch. Why didn't you kill them?"

I shrugged. "I don't know?"

"Lies..." The old man hissed.

"If I killed him, then I would have to kill her. And if I killed them both, there would be a high possibility I would have to kill you as well."

"There was a lot of death implied in that sentence." He pointed out wryly. "Do you still want to kill me now? Do you want to drink my blood?"

I took another step in his direction. "No." I said finally after giving his question considerable thought. "The answer's you may have vetoes the urge of killing you."

He let out a deep laugh that seemed to just roll off his chest and encompassed everything around him. "Come. Sit with me, Vampire." He motioned to an empty chair at the table. "There is much for us to discuss."

I took a seat across from him, settling in easy enough.

"What's your name Vampire?"

"Madison Rose, Sir." I was eager to begin our repertoire and open a line of dialogue between us.

"Such a polite Vampire you are, Madison."

"I am a broken mold unto myself."

"Indeed you are." He agreed.

"Who are you?"

"John." He answered. "John Rogers. That is what you may call me."

I know that name. "I know an author named John Rogers. Younger then you, met him just the other day." I stated.

"An author you say? Anything that I might have heard of?"

I thought for just a second. "Mythological Creatures in Urban Society."

John Rogers smiled. "I wrote that book." He stated. "A long, long, time ago."

I simply stared at him, gazing at his wrinkled little face, reducing him in age in my Vampire mind until he was at the age of the John Rogers I met previously. As outlandish as it seemed, the resemblance was striking.

John is in possession of a Chaos Equation and is not limited by linear progression. He has born witness to the Forgotten Future and is now premeditated paradox. You would do well to heed his words.

"You don't know me do you?" I asked.

"I'm pretty sure I would remember someone like you." Was his reply.

"Do you still have that tattoo? The Chaos Equation?"

Now this caught the old man by surprise. He held out his hand slowly and there, plain as day was the Equation. It was easier to see this time, my Vampire eyes cutting through whatever static interference that had previously befuddled my human vision. He withdrew his hand, interlocking his fingers on his lap.

"And you're sure we never met before?" I asked again.

"It's clearly obvious that you know me Vampire." Rogers stated. "And you possess knowledge of the Chaos Equation and its effect."

"Yeah I do." Conversations with John Rogers were never a normal affair.

John leaned forward. "Then there is only one possible explanation."

You don't know John like I know John. Did you know that the last time I saw him and the last time he saw me was only a couple of weeks apart, yet years past between us. Think about that.

My life just keeps getting better and better. "Because this version of you is from the future and you can't remember meeting me because the past is somehow going to be rewritten."

"Apparently, Vampire. The Forgotten Future Singularity is upon us."

"How did you know I was a Vampire? I didn't even know that Con..." I paused, not sure how much this version of John knew, nor what side his allegiance fell on. "I didn't even know my Maker was a Vampire until he told me and even then I didn't believe him! How could you possibly come to that conclusion, just by looking at me?"

"Because I have eyes girl, that's how!" John laughed. "And I use them."

As overtly fascinated as I was, I was equally confused. "That...that just doesn't make sense."

John Rogers shook his head. "To you maybe, buts that's all about to change. Already did change. There's a whole Universe outside your front door, Madison. Just there, waiting to be experienced. Most can't, or refuse to acknowledge it. Instead, they go through life with blinders on, ignorant to the clandestine events that are unfolding just beneath the veil. Then there are those such as myself that have caught a glimpse beneath the curtain. Once seen, it can never be unseen. Yet more importantly, once you know what to look for, you'll always find it."

"Yes, that all makes sense in a riddle me this, riddle me that kinda a way, but how did you know I was a Vampire? How would I be able to tell another one from a human?"

"It's different from person to person. For me it's the little things. Morningstar is in the details. The eyes that shimmer yet don't. Subtle body movements, like the way you titled your head when we first met. Nobody human would do that, tilt their head in such an angle. It would be painful. But not to you. Plus it's the way you move. Just a touch to graceful. Your face, just a touch to smooth, Hollywood style, just a touch to mesmerizing. But for you, it will be entirely different. Your senses in retrospect are different from mine, far keener, sensitive and superior. You should be able to just sense their presence, yet it's clear that you don't. I am not a Vampire, so I can only guess at your limitations."

John stood up, backing away from the table. "Who did this to you?" He asked.

Without revealing too much about Connor or the reason we were in California I decided to choose my words carefully. How did I know this elder version of John Rogers wasn't the one who put the bounty on my head in the first place? "I woke up like this. No explanations. No higher power. Nothing."

"When?"

"Last night."

"A Fledgling?" John seemed astonished. "Left to her own devices? Interesting."

"Do you know of any others like me?" I asked.

"One would say that there are no more Vampires left in the world. That the Vampire species as a whole is extinct." John Rogers explained. "Yet your very existence proves otherwise. You are a Fledgling, a newborn. Yet there can be no Fledgling without its Master, for how can a Fledgling be born without one? Madison Rose, I haven't seen or spoken to another Vampire in over five hundred years."

Despite my excellent hearing, I still must have heard incorrectly.

I was astonished at his revelation. Five hundred years? And that was just the estimate pertaining to the last time he witnessed someone as myself with his own eyes!

"How is that even possible?" I asked.

"An immortal that questions the plausibility of long life?" John rolled his eyes. "Next you'll be arguing the implausibility of gasoline as a fuel accelerant! Wake up Vampire! Smell the blood wine!"

"How did you manage to cheat death in this fashion?" I wondered aloud, literally star struck. "Was it all because of the Chaos Equation?"

"The secrets of the dead don't bode well for the living." He replied.

"I don't fear death." I stated.

John smiled. "Immortals rarely do."

"Shouldn't you be frightened of me old man? Of what I could do to you?" There wasn't a hint of malice or contempt in my voice. "You know what I am. Clearly, you're aware of my capabilities. How do you know I won't tear your throat out once I've learned whatever it is I came here to learn?"

It was a valid question. This man, this John Rogers who claimed almost five centuries worth of longevity, yet couldn't remember when we first met seemed more amused than anything else, as if he was explaining color to a small child.

"You are amazingly self-restrained, Vampire. This night...could have gone down entirely different. You want to know why I trust you? Because you have gone through great extremes to prove that you can be. You could have killed that couple. You should have killed that couple. I wanted you to, the little muggle pricks that were, yet here we are. Having what could almost pass as a civilized conversation. There are things I could teach you, Vampire. Things that you must know in order to survive the new found existence that lies before you."

I contemplated his offer. His words seemed sound enough, yet each syllable seemed laced with multiple levels of devilry.

"And in return?" I asked. Nothing in this life came for free, not even love.

"An alliance of sorts." John responded.

"An alliance?" I scoffed. "I am Vampire! What possible need would I have to align myself with the likes of you?"

The old man couldn't contain himself. "Hahaha! There it is!" Laughed John.

I was confused. "There what is?"

"The Vampire inside of you. Malcontent. Brooding. Destructive, with a slight hint of douche bag authority."

"You said that there are no more Vampires. That they were extinct. What happened to them?"

"Some thought they died out. Others, hunted until the point of extinction, though personally, I think they just got...smarter."

"What do you mean?"

"Policing their own, killing those that drew attention to the others. That was their major setback you know. Bodies stacking up all drained of blood, fang marks on the neck. This was back when the Humanity Brood still believed in devils, demons and everything in-between. Then of course there were the Hunters. Men and women, dangerous and insidious these people were. They weren't special, didn't have increased strength or any magical attributes to speak off, well not inherently. For the most part they were just wives and sons, daughters and fathers, just regular folk who had lost someone close to them, yet that is what makes them the most dangerous. An enemy that feels he has nothing to live for, full of hatred and vengeance, tears and blood, all this pain directed towards whatever they believed wronged them...like say, a Vampire, there are many that believe your race was just decimated into extinction."

"And all this is real?" I questioned. "Everything?"

"Everything is everything and everything is nothing. Even silence is a sound unto itself. You must find your place in the unseen tapestry of reality, yet not lose yourself in the stitching of the world."

The man speaks madness, coated in riddles, dipped in sanity, served up in a conversational tone befitting a Sorcerer Supreme.

"You think the world or the universe itself made you what you are?" John Rogers took humor in this. "Foolish little Vampire, you're a Fledgling if you're a day. Your kind, the Noctol as they were originally called in the time before Christ, was a merging of science and of magic. An afterthought of the Gods, conceived, created and forgotten in less time than it took me to explain it. A remnant. A byproduct of the Genesis colonization."

He had enraptured me with his words even though I could not comprehend their meaning. "The Genesis colonization? What's that?"

"Before even my time, Madison Rose, yet some futures are best left forgotten."

"Have you heard of the Translucent Man?"

John's eyes seemed to display some sort of emotion briefly. "I've...come across the name in some of my travels."

"Who is he?"

"Someone you would do well to avoid." John said.

"Why? Is he here in California? Is there a way I can contact him?"

"You ask far too many questions, Vampire."

I leaned back in my chair, absorbing all that I've been told up to this point. This man, this John Rogers who seemed subject to insanity if gauged by the words he spoke, yet since spoken to a Vampire, they may ring truer than anything I could ever imagine.

"Come with me." John rose, assuming my complete compliance in the matter, not even glancing behind to see if I had followed.

I did of course and it wasn't long before the nights air was cool against my face as we took to the streets. John walked as if the world belonged to him, faster than I would have initially imagined and even with my increased Vampiric speed, I had trouble keeping pace and still looking human in the process.

"Fire." He called out randomly.

"What about it?"

"Stay away from it." He replied.

"Too late." I chuckled to myself, the morning's events flashing in my mind. Vampire soufflé anyone?

John turned to face me, his demeanor inherently more serious than before. "Pay attention Vampire, this is not some Frat house fraternity where the Deans rules are scribbled in whores lipstick across a chalk board by some drunken pledge with halitosis of the crotch. Just because you are immortal doesn't mean you cannot die."

John shook his head the way a parent would to an uncomprehending child. "Immortals, true immortals cannot die. You can burn them to cinders and scatter their ashes to the wind, rip them limb from limb, drown them in a vat of acid, behead them with..."

"I believe I get the point."

"I sincerely doubt it." John Rogers picked up the pace. "The Reaper, the Death Celestial, Thanatos the White Wolf, she is not a metaphor, Vampire. It is an Old-New World for you Madison Rose. Old, because it's always has been here, lurking just underneath the surface, tearing at the fringe of reality. New, because well...this is all new to you, isn't it?"

"The Death Celestial?" I whispered.

"You'll meet them soon enough Vampire, just not right now." John stated. "True immortals cannot be killed permanently, only neutralized...briefly. You however? No matter how immortal you think you are, a guy with a blowtorch, a plan and some intestinal fortitude could spell out a really bad day for you."

"Fair enough." I responded.

"Suicides heart sunrises."

"Huh?"

With each word, John jabbed me in the chest with his finger for emphasis. "Stay. Out. Of. The. Sun. Vampire."

I pulled my shirt up slightly, revealing a portion of my seared torso. "I think I've got the whole sun thing covered."

"Hmm." He came close to me, running his fingers lightly over the burn scars in a somewhat intimate fashion. "Little blood will clear that right on up." He was off again, skipping along at top speed, yellow brick road style.

"Where are we going?" I yelled after him, trying to catch up.

"To dance with the devil in the pale of the moonlight." Answered John.

"What?"

"I always ask that of all my prey." We were in the middle of the warehouse district, nothing but office buildings and stockrooms as far as the eye could see. "We're here." John Rogers came to a stop so abruptly I almost ran into him.

I didn't recognize my surroundings at all. "Where's here?"

"Keep your brains on the inside!"

"What?" But he was already gone. I turned, full circle, scanning from top to bottom and everything in-between, but I was alone. It was crazy, but I just took it at face value. This was my life now. Blood lust, spontaneous combustion when in direct contact with sunlight and now, apparently random, time traveling old men who vanish while screaming, "Keep your brains on the inside!"

Like I made a habit of keeping them on the outside. It's only what all the cool kids seem to be doing these a days.
Chapter 19

Murder was the case that they gave me...

It was late, but not that late. I wanted to go home, yet I couldn't. There was no place for me to go. I didn't even have enough money to catch a flight back to Palm Coast. Could I even go back to Florida after all this? Could I trust myself to be around my family as a Vampire? I can't even go to school anymore because I'd burn down homeroom.

I began to walk. Nowhere in particular, but I couldn't just stand on the corner in one spot all night, that was bound to draw undue attention. I needed somewhere to go, some place to just sit and think about my wayward life and what the next chess move was going to be. After talking with future John Rogers, bum rushing a Werewolf Den all by myself just didn't seem like that smart of a move right now.

I needed to find Connor.

I could smell blood. The scent was filling my nostrils, the sweet smell sticking to the roof of my mouth like plasma flavored fruit rollups. I could vaguely hear music and I followed it, picking up the pace, testing myself once more, seeing just how fast was fast for me now.

In an instant I was there, barefoot as can be, standing in front of this bar, tucked far enough away that you really wouldn't be able to find it on accident, you would have needed the address, yet from what I could tell, it was packed to capacity. The name of the place was called Sacrifice.

How fitting...

I slipped through the entrance, past the bouncer, moving fast enough that he didn't take notice and just like that, I was inside. It was bigger than I expected, the music blasting at an insane level, yet I was able to turn down the volume of it in my mind, so that the tempo wasn't as loud to me as it was to the patrons that flocked about.

The dim lighting, the ambience, the cute boys, yes, this would have most definitely been a place I would have partaken of had I been human, but now that I was a Vampire the experience was something different altogether. I scanned the area, the dim lighting meaning nothing to me. I could see as well in the dark as I could in daylight. In fact, I think my vision actually improved the darker it became.

I found what I was looking for, a nice little spot tucked away from it all and as soon as I saw it across the room, I was already there, sitting comfortably, admiring my surroundings. It was hard at first, to observe these beings in their natural habitat, unbeknownst to them that Daniel was dead, the lion's den was empty and the Queen of the Jungle now prowled amongst them with blood on her maw.

I wasn't sure if I could do this, live like this. The blood scent of the crowd was overpowering me, driving me into the hunt. My teeth had sharpened again and I couldn't get them to go back to normal. I closed my eyes, attempting to mediate, as if I'd ever done that before. Not that it helped, in fact, it was making everything worse.

One hundred and twenty five.

That's how many separate heartbeats I was able to detect. Fourteen of them had an additional, separate heartbeat within them. Pregnant, I figured. Wonder if they even knew themselves, or maybe they did and just didn't care. Whatever. I want to eat their babies.

Okay, that's enough of that. I opened my eyes and found this pretty young thing sitting at my table, sipping something fluorescent green, staring at me intently.

"You know, you've been doing that for the past forty minutes straight." There was no way another person could have sat in my seat and heard her over the thundering of the bass, yet to me, it was as if she whispered the words directly into my ear.

"Been doing what?" I asked.

"Just sitting there with your eyes closed." She responded. "Damn, your eyes are beautiful."

She's cute and she's hitting on me. "How do you know it's been forty minutes?" I didn't think it had been that long. Time for me is...different now. I processed it differently.

"I've been watching you. I thought you were sleep at first, but then I figured it must be some kinda Zen thing. Its way to loud in here to sleep."

I raised an eyebrow. "You've been watching me the whole time?"

"Yes, I know, it's very stalkerish of me, but I'm extra cute so I get leeway."

Yup, she is most definitely hitting on me.

"My name is Chloe by the way."

Right...

"You're lying." I stated.

"About?"

"Your name. It isn't Chloe, it's a fake name."

"How did you..."

Yes Madison, that's an excellent question. "Pulse rate, oxygen intake, glandular sweat increase..."

"Okay, okay, Ms. CSI..."

"Madison." I offered.

"Hmm. Madison. Kinda rolls of the tongue like cherry stems." She smiled, placed her hand on mine and I knew she wasn't going to survive the night. I knew there was no way she was going to live. My body was electric in anticipation for the kill, there was no denying it.

I am Vampire.

That is what I am and I can only be that or nothing at all. Was there even a choice?

Chloe stayed with me for the remainder of the night, never leaving my side. We laughed and talked, once she even convinced me to dance for a few songs. By the end of the night, when it became apparent that I had no intention of inviting her back to my place, as if I could, sure have a seat on this burning ember here, she slipped me her number, kissed me with all the passion my previous life never had and then made her exit.

I waited five minutes then followed after her.

Chloe was in my system, I could track her and I found myself quit the adept in the roll of hunter. This frightened me. The ease of how I came to the decision to murder this woman and my premeditation of the whole affair in general. At least with the Cop, that honestly wasn't my fault, I didn't know what was happening, didn't know what I was, but this?

This was me, putting needle to record, putting on my dancing shoes and asking the devil for a twirl underneath the pale of the moonlight.

Worst of all, I liked it. I wanted to do this. There was no turning back for me now. Once the deed was done, once I drank her blood and left her cold and lifeless then I was nothing less than a murderer. That is what I would become, that is what would define me for all eternity.

Does that make me a monster? We eat other living things for nourishment and it's all copasetic. I, by the grace of the unholy have been moved further up the food chain, above humans, to the point that they feed me instead and that's considered...criminal? Damnable?

Is it possible that I am just the next link in the evolutionary ladder? Is it wrong to be the dominate species? Just the fact that I could debate this act of premeditated murder, did human life mean so little to me now?

That above all else is what made me a monster.

It didn't take me long to identify my prey. Hmm...prey? Is that what I'm calling them now? Is that all they are to me? Just another meal? Can I get that number 4 to go, with a side of Louis Vuitton boots, Prada bag and iPhone?

She had been marked for death of course. From the moment her image crossed my eyes retina. I toyed with the idea at first, her blood overflowing my thirst, trickling down my throat, quenching the furnace in my chest. I fantasized about caressing my arms against her slender waist, my chin nuzzled against her neck as we danced intertwined in a lovers embrace.

We were well beyond fantasy at this point. I realized this when it became apparent her blood scent had overpowered all the others. I'm not exactly certain when I made the conscious decision to drink her dry. Even now as I trailed behind her in the early San Francisco morning, my nonexistent footfalls in concert with her own human steps, I wasn't entirely sure.

What was I going to do? Sunrise was near and her and her girlfriend had just paused at a cab. I figured that was a sign, something from God signaling that the path I had chosen this night was a calamity in waiting. Yet as her friend got into the back seat of the cab and Chloe continued walking, I knew her fate was sealed. She was nearing an alley.

I was in the alley, pulling her within, her throat in my mouth, my teeth in her flesh.

And just like that it was done.

Her body slumped from my grasp, coming to rest haphazard like next to a dumpster. I could feel the blood inside me, moving with its own purpose, flooding my organs with its unique brand of flavor X.

Was this it then? Her dead gaze stared out with unblinking eyes at nothing. Still as coffins. That would make me, what? The Executioner? Is that all I am? Death immortalized in flesh?

Even as I licked the last few remaining drops of human petrol from my lips, I knew I was getting better. There wasn't a drip-drop of blood on my clothes. None on hers as well. My proficiency at murder was increasing.

Is that even a good thing?

I could feel the heat from the sun. Sunrise was less than a minute or two away. My plan was to kill her. Yes, that's right. Kill her. It was the first time I had actually admitted that. Yes, that's what I had planned to do all along. After the fact, hindsight is 20/20.

Kill her and then hide inside her apartment at dawn. That was the plan and yet here I was, the sun rising up. I could see it as I stood in this alley awaiting a sunbeam kiss. I didn't care that she was dead. I didn't care that it was me who killed her. I could feel my skin hiss and crack as it caught the first rays of the sun.

Maybe I'll care about this.

My arm burst into flame. It shouldn't be long now. I closed my eyes. Not long at all. A tear began to form at the corner of my eye, but evaporated from my increasing body temperature.

Yes, not long at all.
Chapter 20

Death is only the beginning...

I could hear the flame, the crackling sound it made. It was all my mind could focus on. It was...wait... you know...this was like the most painless spontaneous combustion in the entire history of spontaneous combustion.

"Well hello there Johnny Blaze!" The sound of a man's voice snapped my eyes to attention. There he was, like disco lemonade, kneeling next to the body I had just drained, two fingers pressed up against the side of my victims neck.

"She's dead." I managed.

"Yup." Connor announced. "She's dancing with Jesus now." He stood, his attention no longer concerned with the corpse at his feet, but rather the corpse in front of his face.

Now mind you, I've still been partly ablaze this entire time, my arm, which was the first Roman candle spark, still was in full flame mode, yet nothing burned. Not my clothes, not my skin, nothing. Not to mention the lack of pain I was experiencing. Nothing like when I burned down that apartment complex earlier.

Connor threw a quick smile. "Don't sweat it matchstick, I got this."

The flame began to douse itself slowly, as if I had somehow gained immunity from the sun, yet how would that explain my apparent flame retardant clothing?

I took a step towards his direction. "Leave me alone." I was concentrating harder than I was when I ran into that couple at John Rogers place. All I wanted to do was die. I can't live like this. I can't be the monster that fate dictates me to be. I just can't.

"Jedi mind tricks don't work on me." He proclaimed, tapping the side of his temple with his index finger. "My mental is like Professor X before the wheelchair."

I smiled at his response. "How are you doing this?" I asked.

Connor reached out, his hand extended. Despite how exquisite his fingers felt interlocked with mine, I remained cautious.

"You really want to do this here?" He questioned, his arms motioning to the morning rush that surrounded our position. The bustle had picked up, mindless automatons shuffling along their predetermined, self-absorbed lives, unbeknownst to the limited time only Daywalkers in their mist.

He came close, so close that his lips brushed the side of my ear. Damn he smelled good. And not in that, I wanna murder you and drink you dry, then sacrilegiously discard your corpse kinda way either. I'm talking about that...damn you smell good kinda way.

"If you wanna do show and tell Batgirl, how bout we do it at the Batcave or the JLA Watchtower? But I'd rather not have a Reading Rainbow lesson on the corner of Ain't this some Bullshit, in broad daylight. Especially since unlike me, my captivated audience seems to have an oddly severe allergic reaction to our solar eye in the sky."

"Fair enough." It was evident to me that Connor was somehow in control of the fire, that he wasn't letting my body catch aflame, yet even my Vampiric mind was at a loss as to how it was done.

The closer I looked at him, looked at Connor as Madison the Vampire and not Madison the high school kid, the more I could define his nature. I could literally see the energy rippling off his person, a cold azure intensity as he commanded the fire to disperse. It wasn't something you could hear, this mute command of his, yet rather a subtle change in the atmosphere surrounding us as he bent the flame to his will.

The sound of his voice trailed off, yet lost none of its intensity as the body of my deceased prey exploded into a flame so intense, so strong, that almost instantly the corpse was reduced to nothing but ash. Then even the ash burned until there was nothing left of my victim save a scorched mark on the concrete where her body once was.

"You wanna get outta here?" He asked as if we had been best friends forever.

I titled my head back, staring at the sun as it stared back down at me in all her glory. "Yeah." I finally said to Connor. "I'm cool with that."

He pulled away, winking once before running down the block. I watched after him, mesmerized by the way his body moved. This time when he ran, I was able to track him, although just barely. Connor was a full 30 feet before he even turned his head to see if I was following. I wasn't. I was a prisoner in my mind and my only thought was of him.

My dark haired savior.

"Sometime today." He never broke stride, simply shooting me a glance over his shoulder.

Connor hopped into a cherry convertible Lexus that was parked illegally against the curb next to a fire hydrant. I followed, not waiting for yet another invite, intent on seeing this through to the end. Before I could speak however, Connor had already slammed on the gas pedal, the engine roaring to life and we were weaving through traffic.

"I thought I would never see you again Connor." I finally admitted to not only him, but to myself as well. "I thought you were dead."

"Me? Dead?" He couldn't contain his sarcasm. "You think a pack of fucking stray dogs is enough to take me down?"

I didn't see what was so funny. "They killed me easily enough."

"Yeah, but look at you now." Connor said. "All brand new."

I didn't reply.

"So, what's your story Madison?" He pressed the gas pedal even harder, our speed increasing exponentially. "Is murder, suicide just your thing or is this like some strange Japanese fetish you got going on?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "It's just my thing I guess."

Connor seemed disappointed at my response.

I looked away, my eyes focused on the palms of my hands. I could still feel my prey's blood coursing throughout my fingertips.

My eyes closed and I lost concentration. "Um...yeah, so why are we not burning up in the sunlight? I mean, I was on fire until you showed up and now..."

"It's the oxygen in your blood cells. When UV light from the sun is absorbed into your body, it causes a chemical reaction in your bloodstream, which causes your cells to vibrate on a molecular level, which in turn causes the oxygen carried by your red blood cells to ignite. I'm able to suppress that process."

"That's on some X-men type shit." I said.

"Perhaps." Connor stated.

"So I was right, you really are a mutant?" I asked.

"No." Connor said. "I didn't manifest this...ability until after I became a Vampire. Like I said, the transformation is different on a case to case basis, but since I'm able to manifest and manipulate flame, with practice, you should be able to as well."

"Oh...okay."

"You know I've been shadowing you since that whole safe house fiasco last night." Stated Connor. "Burnt down the whole motherfucking building. Talk about the roof is on fire."

My eyes narrowed somewhat. "So I'm running around the city, literally running around, barefoot mind you, trying to find your ass and you were stalking me the entire time?"

"I was making sure you weren't being followed. If the Werewolves had picked up your scent and contacted this Translucent Man, whoever he is, about your whereabouts, better for me to lie in wait and ambush their ambush." Connor whipped the car around a ninety-degree turn faster than he should. "And I wasn't stalking you. I tracked you."

More like used me as bait. "What's the difference?"

He made another quick turn and we found ourselves in a white-collar residential district, pulling up into the driveway of a two story middle class home. It was ordinary. Just like all the other identical looking houses on the block. Nothing posh mind you; strictly middle class boredom all the way, utterly forgettable and charming all at once.

"Stalking gets you three to five." He announced, cutting the engine off. "Whereas tracking on the other hand, is a noble profession and requires skill and discipline." And with that, he hopped out of the Lexus.

Connor was at the front door instantly, opening it up. "Madison, I invite you into my home."

Though middle class, cookie cutter would best describe the home's exterior, as well as the surrounding houses, the inside was anything but. There were no couches or dining tables or things that you would normally find. No microwave, blenders, televisions, or things of that nature.

No, far from it.

There was nothing but crates. Wood crates of every possible size and shape, stacked here and there throughout the entire bottom floor. I don't mean boxes stacked in neat little stacks and piles, just waiting to be unpacked, but rather shipping crates.

The name CornerStone Development was plastered alongside most of them, their diamond shaped logo branded into the side.

"What is all this?" I asked. Connor waded his way through the maze of wooden crates until he reached the circular staircase leading to the second floor.

"Nice ain't it? It's the backup safe house. Considering you burned down the last one, please take care, they aren't called safe houses because there's one on every block."

I followed after him, running up the stairs onto the second deck, which was just one large studio loft area. Where the downstairs gave off the implicit aura of a storage facility, the upstairs was its total polar opposite in every way.

The whole atmosphere had changed from cold and sterile to warm and comforting. In one corner was a mini gym, dumbbells, a bow flex, I think and some other yoga looking equipment.

There was what appeared to be one of the largest flat screens I had ever seen in person, a cream leather sofa and the most awesome, kick ass looking video game chair imaginable.

The bed, king sized, or is it a queen? I could never remember which was the biggest, was against one of the far walls, low to the ground, Zen like and a glass case was, no...it can't be....could it?

I walked closer to get a better view. If my brother was here, he would have a mini nerdgasim. "Is that Action comic's #52?"

"Hell yeah." He seemed extremely proud of that fact. "Along with Detective comic's #27, Amazing Fantasy #15."

"When did you get them? My brother, he always wanted these issues."

"He can have them." Connor plopped down on the sofa. "They came with the house."

"This place?" I gestured to everything around me. "It's yours?"

He shrugged. "It is now."

Such an odd response. "Who did it belong to before?"

"Some douche."

I glanced at all the awesomeness surrounding me. Was that an original Millennium Falcon hanging from the ceiling?

"What happened to him?"

"I burned him alive." He announced nonchalantly, pointing to a pile of ash in front of the bed. "Just because this is a safe house, doesn't mean that technically it's my safe house." His fingers deftly maneuvered the universal remote control with ease. The device appeared more like a detachable panel from the Starship Enterprise then something used to select HBO or NBC.

I couldn't take my eyes off what was left of the previous homeowner. "So how did it happen?"

"I'm not sure I understand the question?" Connor was channel surfing, slowing down in some instances, moving faster in others. Finally he settled on an old episode of the Spawn cartoon from the late nineties.

"How did you become a Vampire?" I clarified.

"I told you already. I don't know." Connor turned off the TV. "It's all a blank."

"Interesting."

"How so?"

"Because the question then becomes why? You should be able to remember and yet you can't. Why? Trauma maybe? The painfulness of the transformation? But that can't be the case, because I remember what happened to me, so there seems to be some type of mental block. Why? Now, it's not like I know the ends and outs to Vampirism, I mean, I've read Brahms Stoker and watched one or two Hollywood flicks, but they never mentioned anything like this. Amnesia? Something so...unforgettable, I don't know, seems like it would be listed with things like crosses, sunlight, bloodsucking and...oh yeah...some people don't remember being turned in a vampire, but that doesn't happen. Everybody remembers their tragic, oh you stole my life, you made me into a monster moment. Of course, there are exceptions to the rule, just like you said, but dude, really? Finding a human finger in your french fries is an exception to the rule. Yeah it happens..."

"I get the picture, Madison."

"Did I paint it?"

"Exceptionally."

"Hey!" I snapped my fingers. "Stop eye fucking me and pay attention."

"Fair enough." He said. "We'll have time to play later."

"Anyway..." I rolled my eyes, my enthusiasm in everything increasing. "The only other option, which is much more diabolical and far more interesting, is that the reason you can't remember is because someone doesn't want you to remember. They fixed it so you can't."

Connor thought about that for a moment. "Seriously? That just seems...counterproductive."

"Dude, you're standing at the mouth of madness and you're looking for sanity? Diabolical plans are just that. Diabolical. There is no rhyme, no reason. They just are. Maybe your Maker is some evil vindictive little bitch and you're just a pawn in her Vampire Manifesto."

Connor didn't look like he was buying it. "Or maybe it's more complex than that?"

"It always is." I added. "I mean, maybe she..."

"She?" He interrupted. "What makes you so sure it was a woman?"

I didn't miss a beat. "Because then this discussion takes on a more male, homoerotic pretense and I'm just not ready to deal with that at the moment."

Connor paid me no attention. "Thirsty? I'm in the mood for a mimosa with a twizzler straw."

"I've never tried one before."

"Perfecto! Stick with me kid; you'll be doing a whole lot of things you've never tried before." There was something devilish in his response.

"Wait...can I even drink a mimosa?"

"What do you mean?" He asked.

"Can I eat anything that isn't blood?" Questions, questions, questions and all really good ones at that. Things I should have asked myself well before now, yet have neglected to do so. I'm like the worst...what did John Rogers call me? Fledgling. Yeah, that's it.

I'm like the worst Fledgling ever.

"It might take some getting used to at first, but Vampirism doesn't really affect your previous eating habits from before, everything will still taste the same. You just won't receive any nutrient value from it. You won't be able to live off it anymore."

Connor handed me a sparkling drink in an overly elegant champagne glass. "If you have to puke afterwards, please use the trash can." He didn't sit, downing the glass before I had a chance to toast.

Connor poured himself another then bounced back down on the couch, landing next to me, almost causing me to spill my glass. "How's it taste?"

"Good." I admitted. "Delicious even?"

Connor was giddy. "Feel like you have to yack?"

I finished the mimosa, then paused, waiting a few seconds. "All clear."

"Awesome!" He fired back. "Just use the bucket if your Vampire body needs to upchuck its Vampire insides."

"Don't worry; I think I'm all good."

"Excellent." Connor actually clapped his hands as he said that.

"How old are you?" I asked.

"Seventeen."

He did look around that age somewhat, but that wasn't what I meant. "No, how old are you really Connor."

"I know what you meant." He said. "I'm thirty-six, if you're going by my official birthdate."

"Okay." I said. "That's really not that old in the long term."

"For a Vampire, I'm relatively young."

"And how many people have you killed? Total."

Not the question he looked like he wanted to answer, nor the subject matter I wanted to dwell on, but now that I'm a Vampire, it was just something that I needed to be aware of.

"I don't really know anymore." He stated. "After around two hundred, I stopped counting. It's not good, mentally, to dwell on such things after a certain point."

I think he could see that look of distraught on my face. This is the future that is in store for me. "After the first one, it only gets easier." He added

"I doubt that." I said.

"Let me ask you a question Madison. How many people have you killed?"

I thought about it for a moment. "Three. A Fireman, the girl from this morning and a Cop."

"You killed a Cop?" He seemed somewhat impressed. "Already?"

"Yeah." I could see my victims face, the last moments of his life replaying in my mind. The horror it contained, the last seconds of life before death decided to offer him an eternal embrace. "But it was an accident."

"An accident?"

"Yeah..." I could witness his soul dying through his eyes.

"Oh, I kinda burned down that apartment complex to."

"Yes you did." Connor stated. "Burned down the whole thing."

"Yeah, but that was an accident to." I admitted. "I didn't know what I was and the sunlight through the window caught me. I don't know how many people were in the apartment complex when it went up, but I know people where in there."

"Madison, you've been a Vampire less than twenty-four hours and you're already a serial killer." He pointed out. "Perfect candidate for Vampirism if you ask me."

We both sat there silent, waiting for the other to respond.

"You're coming with me." Connor exclaimed, randomly. It was more to himself then directed at me personally. Like he was devising my destiny right there in the moment.

"Coming where?" Honestly, we had only just arrived at his...safe house.

"Madison, does it really matter? Do you have somewhere, anywhere that you can go that will offer you even one tenth the excitement?" He asked.

"Well..."

"Shut up Amber Rose, that was rhetorical at best. Besides, dead Fledgling Vampires because they don't want to kill for survival are no bueno. like I need that on my conscious. You're on suicide watch till further notice."

I smiled. "On your conscious? That would imply that you were in possession of one to begin with."

"That's subject to interpretation. Come on, this place is lame." Connor grabbed my hand without a second thought, pulling me after him like some tugboat captain on a mission.

"Where are we going?" I never did like surprises.

"We need to experiment." He offered back. We were down stairs and on our way out the front door before I could put a halt to his forward momentum.

"Where-are-we-going?" I demanded, gripping more forceful then intended, the Vampire in me encroaching around the last remnants of humanity my voice had left.

"Come on Dr. Evil, let's go be evil together." Was his reply.
Chapter 21

This puppy taste like chicken...

I hopped into the passenger seat of the car. The engine roared to life and before I knew it, we were barreling off down the street. Incidentally, we ran over two mailboxes before we even reached the neighborhoods first stop sign.

"I'm almost afraid to even ask what it is you have in mind."

"I don't know..." Connor paused. "...wanna kill some puppies?"

Now, from any other person, normally a statement like: "Let's go kill some puppies!" would be considered hyperbole, but Connor?

"You're not serious, are you?"

"Why wouldn't I be serious? You're the one getting all midnight train to Georgia." Connor fired off.

I frowned. "I have no idea what that means."

Connor only laughed, shrugging his shoulders. "Look, Edward Jr., if you don't wanna eat people..."

"I DON'T eat people!" I hastily interjected. "I just..."

"Tomato-tomotoe. Seriously, now is the time you wanna do word association?"

"Fair enough." I agreed.

"Look, either you're Lestat or Edward. And since your Lestat is lame divided by lamer, then Edward it is."

"Who's Lestat?"

He rolled his eyes. "I refuse to acknowledge your presence for the next six seconds."

"Come on Connor, like I'm supposed to remember every single..."

"6..."

"Oh, you were serious about that not speaking thing, huh?"

"5..."

"Why yes, I do find Pegasaures Rexes mildly attractive, however I've been told that their upkeep is extremely unmanageable." I added.

"4..."

"And no, white Michael Jackson did not make better songs then black Michael Jackson. I mean, Beat It? That's just classic." I can do this all night.

"3..."

"But while we're on the topic, do you really think Hannah Montana is the illegitimate child of Tony Montana, because that would explain so much."

"2..."

"Apparently, according to Aiden, Kennedy was assassinated by the U.S. Government because he was secretly a member of the Skrull Empire."

"1...."

"You're kidding right? Kill puppies? Are you serious?" I've come to the conclusion; never expect sane dialogue from this dude. God he was infuriatingly interesting.

"Look, you're the one that wants to be on the Cullen diet plan. So unless you wanna go hunting in the forest...do you even know where a forest is?"

I went to respond, but Connor just continued his rant.

"Rhetorical. So yeah, let's kill some puppies. I mean, start small right? Baby steps. You wanna start with a horse or a deer or something? Where the hell we gonna find a horse at? A stable, that's where. A little less breaking and entering please, we're trying to keep a low profile here buddy."

I tried to interject. Epic fail.

"So that leaves deer. When was the last time you saw a deer in Oakland? The fucking zoo? Oh, I'm sure we got some in the wild, but I'd rather not spend all day tracking one down. Besides we're here!"

The car came to a stop in front of the Humane Society for Stray Animals.

"Hey, look at me." Connor said in the most sincere voice I've ever heard. He could see the trepidation in my face, the fear about being what I am shining though. "Everything is gonna be okay. I know this is all new to you. This wasn't what you expected when you boarded the plane back in Florida. I recognize the fact that this life, the life of a Vampire is not what you wanted. I'm sorry about what happened. I wish there was a way for me to change it all back, but I can't. You were dying and I made a judgment call."

He placed his hand on my face and an instant calming effect fell over me, my fears melting away. Connor kissed me then, without warning and it was the most passionate kiss I'd ever experienced in my life. He pulled away, but I didn't want him to, I wanted it to continue, I wanted this feeling to last forever.

Connor smiled. "Damn, I've been wanting to do that since I first met you."

We held hands as we entered the shelter. He smelled like honey sickle and cherry blossom. Odd combo, yet it made me desire him all the more. Connor smiled as the sales person appeared to greet us. His scent hit me and I squeezed his hand tighter. Even though I had just fed...

Right...fed. Is that what we're calling murder now? Feeding? Connor began squeezing my hand back, snapping me out of it.

"Anything I can help you with?" The sales clerk was just a little bit to chipper.

"How about some fucking privacy?" Connor fired back.

"Um...sure, okay." He replied, shuffling back from wherever he came from.

"Sooo..." Connor began, looking at the rows of caged animals. "See anything you, uh, like?"

Nothing seemed to faze him, from what happened at the Wolf Den to the gourmet menu in front of me.

I made a face. "I'm not sure. They all look so...cute."

"Well, what about that one?" He asked, pointing to a small little fluffy one.

I shook my head. "No, that reminds me of the little Maltese we owned when I was child."

"You hear that Cujo?" Connor announced, leaning close to the bars. "Nostalgia just saved your ass."

I strolled a little bit further down, paused then pointed. "What about this guy?" It was a baby pit bull. All black, strong, muscled. I wanted him. Connor frowned almost immediately.

"How about we try something a little smaller first?" He advised.

"Why?"

"I don't like Pit Bulls." He stated. "I had a...bad experience once."

"Fair enough." I said, putting my arm around his waist. It was because of Connor I was still alive. Again. "What would I do without you?"

The pupils in his eyes sparked a bright blue flame for just the tiniest millisecond before reverting back to normal. I'd forgotten that without Connor suppressing the flammable molecules in my blood stream, I'd be a funeral pyre by now.

"You think I'll be able to do that?" I asked. "Control fire on my own the way you do?"

"Definitely." He said. "I saw the safe house apartment building that burned down. There's no way you would have survived that without controlling the inferno at some point."

"And how does that work again exactly?"

"I talk to fire. It talks back. Your body tells me it wants to burn. I tell it not to because I like your face. Your body says okay. That's how it works. Don't look a fire horse in the mouth Madison."

"You say the oddest things." I admitted.

"It's why all the cute Vampire girls like me." He squeezed my hand. "How about that one?" Connor pointed towards a cage a little further down.

"The hot dog looking one?" I shrugged. "Looks good to me."

Connor crinkled his nose. "Well that's just crass."

"What? No, I didn't mean it like, looks good to me yum-yum, I mean..."

"I know what you mean Madison; I'm just messing with you."

"I know."

"I know you do."

It wasn't long before we were back at the safe house amongst the multitude of crates that lined the first floor.

"What's in all the boxes Connor?" There were so many of them...everywhere.

"Stuff that belonged to the ash of a corpse upstairs."

"Like this house?"

"Yes."

"Did you really kill the owner of this home?"

"If I see something I want that I can't have, it's oxymoronic, because there is nothing in this world that I can't have. If someone stands in the way of that, then someone dies." He was very blunt about his murderous outlook on life. "I'm just a good person that does bad things."

"Wouldn't that make you a bad person who does bad things?" Oddly enough I was cool with the way he lead his life. It didn't bother me in the least.

Why is that?

He opened the cage door. "Everybody knows Prince Charming doesn't come, Sleeping Beauty is dead and happily ever after doesn't exist."

"Cynical much?"

Connor laughed. "Not anymore. Now come on Vampy McVamperton, let's do the damn thing."

I thought it would be awkward doing this in front of him, that is, until I remembered exactly how we met in that alley. All the trepidation flowed out of me as my mind clicked into Vampire mood.

Poor little thing. It was as if it couldn't even tell what was happening, it didn't even recognize that I wasn't human. Poor little puppy. He was just so cute. The dog began to bark cheerfully. I picked up the little hot dog-dog and bit into his throat, my teeth puncturing its neck as its hot blood began to fill my mouth, running down my throat with increasing speed.

In the background I could faintly hear Connor chanting over and over: "Kill the Gelfling! Kill it!"

The blood...it wasn't the same as...something is wrong. I could tell almost immediately. Oh yes, something was horribly amiss. I threw the dog from me with such force that it dented the refrigerator door when it struck it. I doubled over in pain then fell to the ground, vomiting up blood uncontrollably. More blood then I had just taken in. Connor tried to come close but I shoved him away.

"What's wrong?" He was frantic, out of his depth. I could tell he didn't know what to do.

I tried to speak, tried to vocalize coherent words but I couldn't. I wasn't able to talk. I'd never felt pain like this before. Never! It felt like...like I was dying. Really dying and this time I had no choice. Connor tried to console me, inching closer, but the growl my body produced, so viciously volatile, it froze him dead in his tracks

"Shit!" Connor cried out. "Shitshitshitshitshit!" He began to back away. "Dog blood bad! Dog blood bad!" He was frantic; my body was withering away, drying out. I let off another scream, horrible sounding, talons scrapping against chalkboards. Pain. God the pain.

Connor became graveyard composed. "I got this. You need blood. Real blood. People blood, not this animal bullshit. I got this. I got this."

He spun and darted off, gone faster than an Alzheimer's memory. I was alone. I was dying. An immortal dying. It's almost poetic.

Never take life to seriously, it's not like anybody gets out alive anyway.

Funny I should think about that. Where's the white light? Where's the whole life flashing before my eyes? The trumpets? The horns? I feel jipped.

Stupid dog.

Where are my angels? Hell, where are my demons if I didn't rate...wait...there's my angel right there. Connor came running back in, sweat pouring down that angelically carved face of his and I thought to myself that after seeing him one last time, I was at peace, I could die now.

"In here, she's in here!" Connor screamed.

What is he doing?

"She just collapsed! I think she's having a seizer!" He was talking to someone. Who is he talking to? "My cell isn't working, the batteries dead. Oh God, please...please! You've got to help her!"

A woman, much older than him, somewhere around her mid-forties came in after him. "If she really is having a seizer then I can..."

Connor had his hand over her mouth before she could complete her sentence. "They say the eyes are the windows to the soul." Connor whispered in her ear. He had a butterfly knife in his free hand. "Too bad death was your peeping Tom."

He slit her throat clean.

Connor threw the body towards me. The fatal wound across her throat was gurgling up blood. I was on her in a second. She wasn't dead, not yet at least. She attempted to struggle, to scream, but the more she put up a fight, the closer to death she came. I could feel myself getting stronger as her blood filled my body, coating my organs with its mysterious rejuvenating effects.

I pushed the corpse away from me in disdain. Vampire or no, I still had not come to terms with the taking of a life to extend my own. "Jesus Connor, what the fuck?"

"What?" He seemed perfectly calm. "To melodramatic? Yes? No? I told you I got this."

"Apparently. Who was that woman?" I was covered in blood. Again. If I was going to live forever as a Vampire, dry cleaning was going to be a bitch.

"Who, her? Mrs. Juicy-Juice there? Found her mowing the lawn across the street. Never much cared for the prick, always checking out my ass." Connor bent down close to the dead woman. "Can't check out my ass now, can you bitch?"

Connor looked up and found me staring at him intently. "Yeah, I know, I'm such a fucking gentleman." The woman's body began to burn white-hot, a heat wave floating above her before Mrs. Juicy-Juice turned completely black, her body crumbling into a pile of ash before my eyes. Before long, even that was burned away.

"You...you just killed that woman!" I protested.

"Well, technical no, you killed her. I might have baked the cake, but you blew out the candles and took the first bite."

"Connor!"

"Okay, okay, I'm just arguing semantics with you at this point. I killed her. But if it ever comes down to either you or random douchebag #3 then I'm going to choose you every time."

I shook my head in disbelief. "Is that...normal? What happened to me just now?"

Connor shook his head. "No, I've never seen anything like that before."

"Are we, I mean Vampires, are we not able to drink animal blood at all or is it just me?"

"I've lived off animals before, did it years at a time once." Connor said. "I know Vampires who only drink the stuff, they refuse to even touch human blood at all, but this? What just happened right now, I don't know..."

"Allergies maybe?" I asked. "Could I just be allergic to the stuff?"

He seemed to be contemplating the idea in his head. "Yeah, I got nothing."

"Well, let's not do that again." I said.

"Agreed." Connor popped open one of the crates, rummaging through its contents. He tossed a bundle of clothes in my direction. Grey blazer pants and a white button down. Black shoes and socks. Everything Prada.

"Prada? Really?"

"Just because you buy your clothing from a Mexican selling oranges at the freeway off ramp doesn't mean the rest of civilized society has to Madison."

"Whatever." Connor turned his back as I stripped down, replacing my current blood soaked garments with the expensive apparel. For them being men's clothing, they fit moderately well.

I inspected the logo on one of the crates closest to me. "CornerStone Devolvement. What type of..."

The doorbell rang.

"Expecting company?" I asked warily.

"No."

Something was off, I could feel it.

The doorbell rang again.
Chapter 22

Till death do us part...

His heart rate flared up slightly. A shadow passed the over the sliding glass door. I barely caught a glimpse of it in my peripheral before it was gone.

That's when it all clicked.

There was someone in the back yard. There was someone at the front door, yet the only heartbeat I could hear was Connors. There was a crash from the kitchen window; two cylindrical canisters struck the ground just in front of me, rolling past my feet. There was a blinding explosion and everything went white.

I stumbled back, tripping over a crate. It was impossible to see. I could smell something in the air, some type of gas, a paralyzing nerve agent causing my body to seize up.

My vision was shifting back to normal almost as fast as it went out. Flash bang grenade meant to blind opposition. What in the hell was going on? Connor was already on the ground, coughing hysterically. For some reason, the nerve agent was having a much more punishing effect on him then me.

There was a detonation as the front door exploded open and a woman rushed in decked out in all black tactical body armor, yet it wasn't any type of gear I had seen before. She wore a black gas mask and aimed a shotgun towards Connor.

I tried to yell out in warning, but he couldn't hear me. He was in the fetal position, coughing nonstop, blood leaking out his nose.

The woman fired her shotgun at Connor, a thick white foam enveloping his body when the shells hit. It spread over his frame like gel, covering almost ninety percent of him before hardening. It then began distributing electric shocks, I could see the currents rippling all over his body.

"Hostile 32 neutralized." The woman stated. "Primary Target in close proximity."

I came to my feet as she fired again, rising up from the ground in one fluid motion, the rounds from the shotgun slamming into the crate beside me, coating it in sticky white foam.

"Primary is a possible Hyper-Sensitive." The woman said. "Requesting assistance."

She aimed again, but I was on her by now, using my speed to close the distance between us in a heartbeat. I grabbed the barrel of the shotgun as she fired, the blast going off right next to my ear. I felt my eardrum burst then reconstitute itself.

There was a crash behind me as the sliding glass door exploded in a razor blade cascade. I could hear Connor moan slightly, a part of my mind registering that he was still alive, yet unable to move, the foam hardening all around him, constricting his movements while still sending electric jolts throughout his body, yet I couldn't concentrate on that now.

I kicked the woman in the chest as hard as I could, her body sent flying across the room, slamming into a wall somewhere in the kitchen. I still held the shotgun, gripping it by the barrel when there was another blast from behind and my back exploded. I stumbled forward from the impact, sharp pain racing throughout my entire body.

I turned around and saw a man similarly dressed in the same type of strange body armor. There was a shotgun in his hand. The barrel was smoking. He fired again and my chest exploded open from the impact, blood splattering everywhere. He wasn't shooting foam. He was shooting the real deal.

The wound on my back had already begun to heal, the pain subsiding. The tissue in my chest was mending itself, little strands of flesh, weaving, reconnecting, becoming whole.

I let out a scream, savage and deadly.

"Primary Target is a confirmed ReGen." The man said.

I swung the shotgun in my hand like a baseball bat, striking him in the side of the head, his helmet and gas mask shattering on impact as he cartwheeled to the ground.

"HEY!"

I twisted around as the woman fired her small arms weapon, something like a Desert Eagle, yet different, modified, more sophisticated. She continued firing as she walked towards me, emptying out the clip into my chest. She kept shooting until her gun clicked empty. I just shook my head at her ineffectiveness.

She ripped off her gas mask and smiled. "Wait for it..."

My chest exploded, my body flung backwards from the force. I slammed into the back wall, then went through it, crashing out the other side of the house into the backyard. I hit the ground, digging up the earth as I slid backwards on the grass.

I tried to move but I couldn't. There was so much pain. My entire chest was blown wide open. It was as if someone had splashed liquid metal inside my body and it hardened over most of my organs.

I could see my body trying to regenerate around the metal, but there was just so much of it and it was...everywhere!

The healing process couldn't compensate for it. Couldn't grow over the metal to reconnect the damaged tissue into something whole again. It was like watching two fingers desperately trying to touch, but someone parked a big ass Buick in-between them.

The woman was walking towards me, gun aimed in as she reload. "Graul, status report."

I could hear movement from the house. "Hostile 32 is neutralized, Amastacia. Extraction incoming. ETA two minutes. What about our Primary? There's nothing in the dossier that said she was a ReGen. Last DNA scan stated that she was Hyper-Sensitive negative. She's supposed to be human."

"Something must have happened since the Wolf Packs last check in." Amastacia kicked my leg, but I didn't move. I couldn't. "The Primary Target is neutralized."

Graul.

Amastacia.

Who the hell are these people?

"Graul, inform the Translucent Man we are on our way to Sanctuary."

"Roger that."

She was standing directly over me now, looking down. Slowly Amastacia reached forward and pulled at my upper lip, exposing my sharpened teeth. "And tell him our Primary is now of the Vampiric persuasion."

Graul appeared, pulling Connor by his hair into the back yard. I couldn't tell if he was alive or not. "Vampire?"

"Maybe Hostile 32 decided to create himself a little progeny." Replied Amastacia.

"Or she was in a bad way when she left the Wolves Den is more like." Graul let go of Connors hair, his head hitting the ground with a sickening thump. "Is she still awake?"

"That's an affirmative." Amastacia said.

"Then plug her again." Graul demanded. "Translucent Man wants all Primary Targets deceased before transport to Sanctuary."

"I'm out." Amastacia explained. "She took the whole clip. Nothing left but Regular Rounds."

"The whole clip?" Graul seemed impressed. "Tough little son of bitch."

"The Translucent Man didn't say anything about a second ReGen, let alone another Vampire. All our biological weapons are coded to Hostile 32's DNA specifically. Everything we have will be ineffective on her. That's why the bio-agent in that dog's bloodstream was ineffective. We're not equipped for this type of operation. Those were my personals rounds." Amastacia stated.

"RGP Personals? You keep a clip of ReGeneration Piercing rounds on you?" Graul asked.

Amastacia smiled. "Never leave home without them."

Graul pulled out his Glock. "You always were the baddest bitch." He knelled down next to me, putting the barrel flush against my temple. "Guess we'll just have to do this the old fashion way, wont we?"

He pulled the trigger and everything went black.
Chapter 23

How can the other shoe drop if I only have one foot?

One of the things that don't come with the Vampire manual is exactly how much abuse your body can take before death. I for one, can testify that it can take a lot. Scratch that, an enormous amount of punishment. I've been burned alive, had my chest exploded and was shot in the temple. Yet I'm still alive.

I think.

I could hear breathing. It was haggard and rough, but I could tell it was Connors. He was close and he was alive. Everything was black though, nothing but the abyss stretched out before me. I could hear his heartbeat, could sense it. My body was attuned to it by now, I guess. He was, by far, the one person I had spent the most time with as a Vampire.

Then God said let there be light.

And slowly enough, there it was. It started off as just a pinprick. Nothing much mind you, just a small dot of white, but it was widening, getting bigger. Wider. I could make out the ceiling. At least I thought that was the ceiling.

What the hell was happening to me?

"You do understand that you've been talking out loud this entire time?"

I spun towards the sound of the voice. So I can move! I found myself face to face with Destiny personified. It was a woman, extremely pale, almost to the point of translucency. There seemed to be a crackling of energy, an electric little ball of nuclear fission happening at her core, situated in the middle of her chest. It flared underneath her flesh constantly. Red little lightning streaks of electricity rippling through her skin.

Her hair was jet black with large bangs, cut reminiscent to a Japanese schoolgirl. She wore a billowy light brown suede jacket, cinched at the waist. Underneath that was a darker brown, V-cut cat suit that hugged her frame provocatively.

"Who are you?" I demanded, unsure what was happening. How am I speaking? Am I alive? This must be a dream then? A hallucination caused by catastrophic blood loss.

Maybe I am dead.

"You reek of pending, Chronal Temporal Displacement." She said in disgust.

"What did you just..."

"Be STILL, soulless orangutan!" She bellowed out with such force that the volume of her words dropped me to my knees, hands covering my ears. "A God SPEAKS!"

I attempted to stand, to rise up, but it felt like someone had detonated a dirty bomb inside my skull and all my struggles were for naught.

"Jesus..."

"The Christ God? Really? His story ended on a Cross." She petted my head as one might a small animal. "And is that whom you've placed your faith in?"

I found it was impossible to move my head, let alone my body.

"You are in the presence of Godlyhood, orangutan, knell until instructed otherwise."

"Who are you?" I stammered. "Where am I? What is this place?"

"I am the Final Test, the White Water from the Well of Fate, the Spring of Wisdom, the Feather placed by Maat Goddess of Truth. I am the Shaka Ree, the Broth of Oblivion, the Period of Chaos, Guardian to the Castle of the Joyous Gard. I am the Boatman waiting on the turbulent shores of Eternity where the Sons of the Dark Wisdom pay tribute. I am Thanatos the White Wolf and I am Inevitable."

The sky was red, blue bolts of lightning illuminating the blackened landscape. I could somewhat make out forms in the gold rimmed clouds, dark and hideous, winged things of talon, tooth, claw and flame. I was on a blackened beach, the grains of sands replaced by bone and ash, the tide, a sea of blood, slamming against the shores, skulls of the beheaded washing up in its bubbling, white capped froth.

Withered hands reached out from beneath the waters, outstretched, grasping, clutching, pulling each other back underneath the crimson tide, moaning for release, whispering the secrets of the damned to any who would listen.

"And you Vampire, are in She'ol, Realm of the Dead, where the Beast rules desire, but it's not quite your time yet." She placed her fingers underneath my chin and pulled me to my feet. "Look."

Her hand was outstretched towards the sky and I followed her gaze and when I did the clouds spread apart as the lightning struck forth, separating the chaff from the wheat and that's when I saw him. A vision of another place, of another time, mingled in with the death and malice that surrounded me.

Connor...

He was chained to a wall, the shackles around his wrist wound so tight that blood trickled down his forearm. He was awake, yet his eyelids were half-open and drool eased out the side of his mouth, forming a little puddle on the ground where it landed.

There was someone else in the room, a man, sitting in a chair, his gaze fixated on Connor, his eyes never straying from him as he watched patiently, waiting. He sat inside a broad circle, directly at its center and within this circle was what appeared to be hieroglyphs and runes smeared in blood across the floor, written in some archaic language that I didn't recognize.

"Hey, you awake?" The man was trying to get Connor to look at him. "Little boy..."

Connors head swayed from one side to another, like he had lost all form of motor control in his body.

The man smiled. "That's it. Come on now little boy, work through it."

Connor hoisted his head somewhat, but it plopped back down, his chin smacking his chest.

"Yeah, they doped you up real good." The man said.

He tilted his head again, high enough so that when he lost control of the muscles in his neck, the skull fell against the wall he was chained to instead of drooping forward.

"Madi...Madison." He could barely speak and his tongue flopped around in his mouth.

"That's it little boy, fight it. Fight the drugs." The man said. "Focus on my voice."

His eyes fluttered open a little more, as a touch of cohesion in his mind state began to appear.

"Where...where am I?"

"You're in Sanctuary." The man stated.

"What?"

"Last stop before the Eden Complex." He continued.

Connor seemed confused, like he didn't understand what was going on.

The man seemed to take notice of his disorientation. "I take it you've never heard of the place? What's your name little boy?"

As the seconds ticked by, Connor was slowing gaining a mastery over his dulled senses. "Madison..." He tilted his head to the left briefly and then the right, a slow building franticness taking hold of him. "MADISON!"

The man made a face. "Strange name for a guy."

Connor tried to touch his head, but found that the chains that held him locked to the wall weren't long enough. "My...friend...Madison, where is...she?"

"You mean the corpse they dragged in here?" The man leaned back in his chair. "Body bag in the corner."

"NO...not...not dead." He whispered. "Not dead."

The man shook his head in disagreement. "Looked pretty dead to me."

Connor attempted to stand, found he didn't have the strength to try, yet tried again. "Not dead...Vampire."

The man leaned forward in his chair thoroughly interested. "Well isn't that a fascinating turn of events."

Connors attempt to stand was thwarted almost immediately due to the shortness of the chains. "Who are you?"

"Me?" He pointed his thumb at himself. "Jenova Darkstar."

"Connor." He said, trying to take in his surrounds. It was an empty room, nothing special about it at all. Reminded me of a master bedroom, lacking in furniture, turned into some type of holding cell.

In the corner was my body, zipped up in a black body bag, stretched out on a metal table. Connor was bolted to the wall, the white foam that had covered his body gone. There were little traces of it on his clothing here and there, but it seemed to be dissolving away. In the center of the room, Jenova Darkstar sat in his chair, in the middle of a blood smeared, rune-covered circle.

Connor shot Darkstar an accusing glare. "You...you work for them?"

"Me?" Jenova seemed offended.

"Are they government? Black Ops maybe?" Even though he was regaining his facilities, whatever drug they gave him was still taking its toll. He started pulling on the chains, trying to pull them from the wall they were bolted into, but they held fast.

"Not government." Jenova Darkstar shook his head. "They work for some guy called the Translucent Man."

"And how would you know that?" Connor asked.

"Because I've been running from him for the past six months."

Connor gave up trying to free himself. "If you don't work for them, then help me."

"If I could..." Jenova reached towards the edge of the circle that surrounded him, but a bright flash of light sparked off suddenly before he could even get close, forcing his hand back. "...then I would. But I'm as much a prisoner here as you."

Connor squinted his eyes, noticing the blood scrawled across the floor. He began to mumble to himself somewhat.

"You can read that bullshit?" He asked.

"It's not bullshit." Connor stated. "It's Latin and yes, I can read it."

Jenova Darkstar was thoroughly intrigued. "Now why on earth would you possess a talent like that?"

Connor continued to murmur, his eyes snapping up suddenly. "Because I've had to create a Devils Trap once or twice before, demon."

The eyes of Jenova Darkstar solidified to all black. "Guess the cats out of the bag."

Connor tried to pull back, scramble further away from the demon, but there was nowhere left for him to go.

"Oh, don't be afraid of me little boy, we're both in the same predicament here." Jenova admitted, his eyes turning back to normal.

The demon was right and with that slight acknowledgment of fact, Connor stopped his struggles. "How did they catch you?"

"Fucking Wolf Pack caught me slipping, same as you." Jenova admitted. "They picked up our trail last year..."

"Our?"

"Me and my friend. They killed him. Shot him in the head, then transported his body off somewhere. They would have gotten me to, but I escaped. Thought I lost them in Rome, but six months ago, those fucking Wolves picked up my scent..."

"You mean the Werewolves?" Connor asked.

"Yeah, that's them." Said Jenova. "The Translucent Man uses them as his bloodhounds, his trackers. Once they locate whatever it is he wants, he sends in his Marauders, that's what they call themselves. Far as I can tell, there are four of them, two males and two females. Amastacia, she seems to be the one in charge..."

"Amastacia?" Questioned Connor.

"Cipher Codes." Jenova said. "Fake names. Second in command is this guy, Graul. Next is Theodore, he seems to handle weapons. Holiday, the other woman, she does all the...demon stuff."

"We need to find a way to get out of here." Connor insisted.

"Your proficiency at stating the obvious is magnificent." Jenova said sarcastically. "Bravo, little boy."

"Where are they taking us?"

"Far as I can tell, some place called the Eden Complex." Darkstar said.

"Sounds biblically nice."

"You don't understand." Jenova Darkstar said. "We do not want to go to this Eden Complex."

Connor just laughed off his warnings. "The humans don't frighten me. I will endure."

"You don't get it." Jenova explained. "This guy, this Translucent Man, he's up to something and whatever it is, it's big. For the past year he's been either tracking people down or killing them outright. The ones that he doesn't murder, they get sent up to the Eden Complex and are never seen again. Trust me, that is the one place you don't wanna end up. That's the end of the line, man."

Connor didn't seem to be paying any attention, instead staring at one of the links in his chains, lost in deep concentration.

"Are you even listening to me?" Darkstar asked.

"Honestly, no." Connor replied.

"Great. Fucking awesome." Exclaimed Jenova Darkstar. "Just what the hell are you doing?"

"I can start fires." He stated.

The demon seemed utterly unimpressed. "Well I can do that."

"With my mind." Finished Connor.

"Oh." Darkstar seemed to reverse his opinion somewhat. The demon rose from his chair. "If you're a fire starter, then burn some shit. Burn it all down. Get us the hell out of here."

"What do you think I've been attempting to do since I woke up?"

The demon sat back down. "Get on my nerves? Fill me with false hope? Should I continue?"

"Whatever drugs they pumped in me, it's suppressing my ability to generate a flame."

The door opened and a woman walked in. She was decked out in the same type of black body armor Amastacia and Graul wore earlier. She held a modified M-16 with a laser scope and grenade launcher attachments.

"Holiday." The demon rose again, walking as close to the Devils Trap as he dared.

"If the two of you don't shut the fuck up in here..." Holiday began.

Jenova Darkstar did not appear intimidated in the least.

"What are you going to do?"

Holiday began to mumble something in another language and within the circle, the floor began to shake and hiss. She continued her chant as steam and ice rose up from the ground. The ceiling seemed to blacken within the circle and peel back, revealing a red hued sky.

I witnessed this all from my place upon the Shore of Eternity, where the Realm of She'ol merged with the land of the living and from the blood ocean I could see the hands reach up from their watery graves, torn and battered, reaching into that room from the ceiling, pulling at Jenova Darkstar, gripping at his clothes and hair, trying to bring him into the depths where the devils sleep.

"NO!" I cried out, my scream reverberating throughout the universes so loud that it appeared that Connor himself caught a faint whisper of it on the wind.

"Watch." Thanatos the White Wolf was as beautiful as she was horrifying, yet I did as I was told. "Prepare yourself, Vampire. The time is almost upon us now."

Holiday ceased her recital and when she did the ceiling collapsed in on itself, returning to normal, Jenova Darkstar falling to the ground, released from the hands of oblivion.

"I know your real name demon." Holiday said. "If I have to come back here again, I'll banish your ass back to whatever hell spawn dimension you managed to escape from."

Darkstar stood, brushed off his clothes somewhat and sat back down on his chair, very calm like. "At first I was just going to kill you Holiday, but I think I just changed my mind."

Holiday took a step closer. "Then I guess I should be grateful."

"Trust me." Jenova appeared extremely calm. "There are fates much worse than death."

They both locked eyes for a moment, neither blinking, neither looking away.

The earpiece Holiday wore crackled to life. "Holiday, its Theodore. Graul and Amastacia are in transit from sanitizing our last location. Transport to Eden in ten."

"Copy that." Holiday replied. "On my way." She held the demons gaze for a second longer, then walked out the room.

"I've got a surprise for that bitch." Jenova uttered under his breath before turning his attention towards Connor. "You said you couldn't generate a flame because of the drugs they gave you right?"

"Yeah." Connor whispered. "It's wearing off, but I don't know how long it will take."

"What if you didn't have to generate the flame?"

"What do you mean?"

"Like I said before, they caught me slipping. Tricked me into this Devils Trap is what did. I thought I was buying this house, was going to retrofit it as a pending... headquarters, so to speak. They set up a bogus open house meet and greet. Even had food. So when they showed me this bedroom, I just walked in, then BAM. Locked in the Devils Trap."

"That sucks."

"Tell me about it. But the thing about a Devils Trap is, there are no in and outs. Once I'm in, I can't leave and they can't come in, not unless the seal is broken." Jenova motioned towards the circle scrawled in blood on the floor.

"I know how a Devils Trap works."

"Good to know." Jenova said. "Good to know. Anyways, from what I can tell, they weren't supposed to keep you here, they were supposed to keep you contained at your place, but that Vampire..."

"You mean Madison?"

"Yeah, that's the one. Well she really screwed up their plans. They shot her through a wall, did you know that?"

"Yes. I was there."

"Yeah well, your place was too hot, too much attention drawn, so they brought you here with me."

"We only have ten minutes demon."

"Well you said you couldn't generate flames." Jenova reached in his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He put one in his mouth then lit the end with a match, inhaling deeply, savoring the moment, before exhaling a puff of smoke. With the lit match, he set the entire book of matches on fire. A large burst of flame flared up as all the matches caught ablaze all at once. He tossed the burning little pile next to the binding circle of the Devils trap.

Connor concentrated on the fire, molding it with his mind, bending it to his will. The flame straightened itself out into a line and from that line it grow little fire legs and arms. A tiny little flame head began to appear, a small four-inch man composed of fire. Connor pushed his thoughts as hard as he could, fighting back against the drugs, blood trickling down his nose as he did.

The Matchstick Man got down on its knees, rubbing his little flame hands back and forth against the circle, yet as he did, his size began to diminish. Connor was losing control, unable to keep the form, unable to control the flame, the drugs in his system specifically designed to do just so. Faster and faster he rubbed, his little flame hands burning away at the blood until all at once he burnt himself out.

Jenova Darkstar began to grin ear to ear, clapping, harder and harder, louder and louder, rising to his feet, giving Connor a standing ovation.

Holiday burst into the room. "What the hell did I just tell you about the..."

She paused suddenly, sensing something was wrong. The seal of the Devils trap had been broken, only just a scratch, burned away by the Matchstick Man, but a scratch was all it took.

A Devils Trap was ineffective if the seal is broken.

She went to raise her weapon but it was already too late for her. The body of Jenova Darkstar collapsed on the ground, as if he was just struck dead on the spot. Holiday went rigid, arms straight at her side; palms open wide as her body arched back. She rose up from the ground, levitating in the air, eyes stark white, wide open.

She stayed like that for a moment as Connor looked on, helpless, unaware of what was happening. Holiday dropped to the ground, landing in a low crouch as Connor waited, not sure what to do, unable to do anything even if he wanted to. Holiday began to stand, looking at her hands, opening and closing them repeatedly.

Closed fist. Open palm. Closed fist. Open palm.

She turned her head towards Connor, paused, then looked at the body of Jenova Darkstar who lay crumbled up on the ground like some discarded rag doll. Holiday strode towards the body of Darkstar, stripping him of his jacket, his wallet and keys as well, then began walking towards Connor, who pulled away instinctively.

"Get away from me!" He yelled.

Holiday crouched down low so she could look Connor in the eye. "Calm down little boy. Looks like Christmas came early for the both of us."

"What?"

Holiday's eyes began to swirl as they changed, becoming jet black."

Connor couldn't believe what he was seeing. "Jenova?"

Holiday grabbed the chains that bound Connors left hand and ripped the bolted portion from the wall in one pull. He did the same with the other, then broke the shackles that were wrapped around Connors wrist. "I always repay my debts."

Connor stood, swayed once and had to balance himself against the wall for support. "I don't understand. What did you do?"

"Flesh of my flesh." Holiday stated. "This body is mine now. Permanently. I told that bitch there were things worse than death."

Connor put the pieces together. "Demonic possession."

Jenova nodded in agreement. "Of the permanent sort. Holiday is gone, her soul burned away in the watery fires of Oblivion." She squeezed her own breast. "I've never possessed a woman before. Does that mean I'm a lesbian now?"

Connor didn't bother with a response, instead running over to the body bag, unzipping it open, then nearly collapsing from what he beheld. My body was inside, lifeless, skin withered to the skeleton. There was a whole in the side of my head from where Graul shot me in the temple, the exit wound on the other side of my skull. My chest was torn open, dense metal coating most of my insides.

"Oh my God." He whispered.

Jenova Darkstar in his/her new body ripped open a window frame, tearing the security bars off. I had never seen or met a demon before, but apparently they seemed stronger than a Vampire. At least Jenova was by any accounts.

Connor saw that Darkstar was about to crawl out the window. "Where are you going?"

"Getting the fuck out of dodge." She answered back. "If I was you little boy, I'd do the same."

"No." Connor refused to leave. "We can't leave her."

Jenova looked at the corpse of a thing in the body bag. "Dead is dead." She proclaimed. "And she looks pretty damn dead to me." She was halfway out the window now, one leg in, one leg out.

"Please." Connor pleaded. "Help me."

Jenova paused a little longer then climbed the rest of the way out the window and was gone.

Connor didn't know what to do. He was just standing there, looking down at my body, unmoving, unflinching.

"Run." I whispered to no one. "Get out of there."

The White Wolf watched me with morbid curiosity, but didn't speak.

"Consider us really, really even."

Connor looked up and saw Darkstar climbing back inside through the window. She came over to the body bag.

"Move fire starter."

She shoved Connor out the way and took everything in, examining my body fully, determining her next move. "In my history, I've met a Vampire or two. Killed maybe three or four. Five to six times out of seven I've found them to be extremely resilient."

"What do you mean?" Connor asked.

"Well everything seems to be here, body pretty much intact, more or less." Jenova started ripping the metal out of my chest, organs and everything else coming out along with it. "First thing we need to do is get rid of all this bullshit here."

Pieces of metal coated lung and kidneys clanged on the ground. "Isn't she gonna...need that?" Connor asked.

"Eh..." Jenova continued pulling out every bit of metal she could find. "I have an idea."

A big chunk of my heart struck the floor.

"Are you sure?"

"Not particularly." The demon took a step back, admiring her work, double checking if all the metal was gone. My chest was almost all hollowed out, chunks of organs scattered about here and there.

"But it can't get much worse than what it is now. Most of the heart is there. Very important that part is. Majority of the body is intact." He examined the gun wound in my head, sticking her middle finger in the wound as far as it would go, moving it around a bit before pulling it out.

"Good portion of the brain is still there. Head still attached to the body." She turned to look at Connor. "We got lucky on that. If they would have decapitated her, I doubt we could have reattached it at this stage."

"If they cut her head off?" Repeated Connor. "She could have lived if they cut her head off?"

"Oh for a good twenty, thirty minutes." Jenova walked over to her previous body. "Learned that the hard way about ninety years back." She stared at her old self sprawled out on the floor. "Such a handsome devil I was, wasn't I?" Jenova hoisted the body up over her shoulder.

"When I possess a body, I burn the soul completely out. The body becomes mine." She explained. "But when I leave a host, the body doesn't die; it's just...what's the word? Catatonic? Yup, that's it. The body remains in a catatonic state. Stand back." Jenova gripped his old body from the back of neck, hoisting him up in the air with one arm. She reached down and pulled out a black stainless steel bayonet from its sheath from her leg.

"What are you doing?" Connor asked.

"Well she's a Vampire right?" Jenova jammed the knife into his former body's stomach, then slit it open from gut to collar bone, dropping the body on top of me. "She needs blood." She grabbed his old body by the back of the head, slit the throat, then positioned it so the wound was directly over my mouth, then took a couple of steps back.

Connor just watched, unable to speak, not knowing what to say even if he wanted to. Blood oozed down my throat, so much blood I could taste it, even here, standing on the shores of She'ol, I could taste the blood. I could feel it trickling down my throat, the sweetness of it, warming my body, working its way into my cells.

"Prepare yourself, Vampire." Thanatos the White Wolf placed her hand on my shoulder. "The hour is upon us. Chronal Temporal Displacement has been initiated. "

My chest was damp. I could feel something inside of it, mixing with my soul, overpowering my senses. I stumbled back unto the rocky shore, falling to a knee, my hand coming down on the crushed bones and ash that made up the beachhead. My body was becoming cold, oh so very cold.

I screamed as I began to freeze over from the inside out.

"What's going to happen?" Connor asked staring at the two dead bodies on the table.

Jenova shrugged. "Either something really interesting or absolutely nothing at..."

I sat up suddenly, the dead body that was on top of me crashing to the floor, nothing but an empty husk. All of the organs that were in his chest had oozed out, transferred into mine. My breath was coming fast and hard, the hole in my chest weaving itself to a close. I raised my hand slightly, touching the side of my temple with my finger, feeling the bullet hole literally healing underneath my fingertips.

"Holy shit." I said.

Jenova Darkstar was in a state of total shock and awe. "You can say that again."

Connor didn't say a word, instead, letting his actions speak volumes, running over almost immediately, wrapping his arms around me. I hugged him back, just glad to know that he was okay. Jenova gave me his old jacket.

"We have to get out of here." I managed, slipping into the old battered leather coat. It reminded me so much of the one I used to paint with at home.

"What in the fuck is going on?"

I turned towards the door. There was a man there, someone I'd never seen before. It wasn't Amastacia or Graul, but he was dressed the same.

"Hello Theodore." Jenova said in welcome.

"Holiday, what the hell are you doing?" He demanded. "Why is Hostile 32 and..."

Jenova reached for her weapon, the modified M-16 that was strapped to her back and began to fire, the rounds catching Theodore square in the chest, knocking him backwards through the door.

"Behind me." She demanded. Connor pulled me off the table just as Jenova cocked the grenade attachment and fired at the wall. The explosion was deafening as brick, wood and plaster went flying. Smoke was everywhere, yet my Vampiric eyes cut through it, my senses kicking in. There was a massive hole in the wall and that was our ticket to freedom.

"Move it Vampire, now!" Jenova yelled, gripping me by the shoulder and shoving me through the hole. Gunfire erupted from behind us. It was Theodore, leaning in through the doorway, letting off shots, the body armor he wore apparently saving his life, same as the woman, Amastacia, when I kicked her in the chest at the safe house.

Jenova pulled a sidearm that was on her waist and tossed it to me then began giving cover fire. "Now damn it!"

I scrambled through the dust and smoke making my way through the crater in the wall, Connor in tow. Jenova was moving slowly, taking small steps backwards as she continued to fire, keeping Theodore pinned down. In an instant I was outside. We were in some random little neighborhood, somewhere in the middle of nowhere. The sun was in the sky, shinning bright, no cloud cover in the sky to speak of.

My body burst into to flames.

It was immediate, all-encompassing and spread like wildfire across every inch of my body. I dropped to my knees, screaming. The sun was merciless in its punishment and I wasn't sure how much more I could take. Suddenly I felt a cool hand on my shoulder.

"It's okay, I got this." The voice belonged to Connor and as he spoke, the fire died down into nothingness, evaporating altogether. He grabbed my arm, put it around his neck and hoisted me up to my feet, taking the gun from my hand. He half walked, half dragged me across the front lawn towards the street.

"We need an exit strategy." Connor said, lowering me down gently on the grass. There was a car driving past slowly and he stepped out into the street directly in its path.

He cocked the nine millimeter and started firing at the windshield as he walked around the front end of car towards the driver's side door.

The car swerved, popped the curb and hit a fire hydrant, water shooting up into the sky, the horn on one continuous blow. Connor opened the car door and pulled a bullet ridden dead body from the driver's seat, dumping it on the ground.

He looked up at me. "Get in."

I made my way towards the car as fast as I could. About sixty percent of my body had healed, but the other forty was still covered in third degree burns and an extremely charred leather jacket. I could still hear gunfire from behind me as Jenova and Theodore went at it. I opened the car door and fell into the back seat. Darkstar was close to us now, almost at the car.

"Connor!" Jenova yelled. "Help!"

Theodore was at the center of the room we had just escaped from. He took a knee, hoisted an RPG on his shoulder, aimed at the car and fired.

Time seemed to slow down for everyone involved.

The rocket flared out the house, through the hole in the wall and across the lawn, on a collision course with our vehicle.

Connor threw both of his arms out, everything from his elbows down erupting in flame.

A wall of fire sprung up from the ground directly in front of Jenova.

The rocket slammed into the wall of flame and exploded.

The force of the explosion lifted Jenova Darkstar off her feet, propelling her body backward, slamming her into the car, shattering both passenger side windows.

The ball of flame increased in size, expanding, growing larger in diameter, heading towards the car, threatening to envelop us in is fiery madness.

The fireball slowed, then came to a stop, reversed direction and crashed into the side of the house.

Connors eyes rolled into the back of his head and he collapsed.

Everything was hectic, insane craziness all around us. The entire house exploded. Jenova scrambled, coming around the car, picking Connor up and shoving him in the back seat. He was unconscious and his breathing was shallow.

"Vampire, up front now!" Jenova Darkstar was already behind the wheel, putting the car in reverse. There was a thump as the front wheels came down from the curb and hit the blacktop. She put the car in drive and peeled off.

I didn't want to leave Connor, but I did what I was told, climbing into the front passenger seat.

Jenova Darkstar tossed her M-16 on my lap along with an ammo clip from her waist. "You know how to work that?"

In an instant, my Vampiric mind was at work, replaying every movie scene I had ever witnessed that involved a M-16. I pulled the empty clip out, inserted another, gave the bottom of the new clip a tap, pulled back the guard and did a check. There was a round in the chamber. "Yeah, why?"

The back window exploded in a hail of gunfire.

"That's why." Jenova made a sharp turn and we were speeding along the on ramp, merging with oncoming traffic on the freeway. I could hear Connor moan softly in the backseat. He was starting to come around, the strain of what he did, of somehow controlling the exploding RPG and redirecting its course slowing wearing off.

More gunfire. This time hitting the trunk of the car.

"You ready for this Vampire?" Jenova asked.

I leaned out the side of the passenger side window and began to fire.

"Good, cause shits about to get real." Finished Darkstar.
Chapter 24

Exit strategy...

Jenova was swerving in and out of traffic, going as fast as she could. Despite this fact, our pursuers were gaining on us. They had pulled up on the driver side and I fired at their passenger side door and window, but the bullets didn't seem like they were doing anything other than chipping away at the paint and scratching the glass.

Darkstar rammed into the side of their car with ours then slammed on the brakes. An eighteen-wheeler roared past us on the opposite side. Jenova hit the gas, swerved around the truck and drove on the shoulder.

I slid back into the car. "These bullets ain't doing shit. Who are these people?"

"Marauders for the Translucent Man." Connor replied in a shallow voice from the backseat. He was sitting up fully now, yet I could tell he was using all his strength to do so. "I thought you were dead Madison."

"I got better."

"We need a distraction." Jenova sped up even faster until we were lined up with the passenger side door of the eighteen-wheeler. "Take the wheel."

"What?" But it was already too late; Jenova had already opened the car door and begun to climb out.

"What in the hell?" I reached over and grabbed the wheel, sliding into the driver's seat. Jenova Darkstar was hanging onto the car doorframe, then leapt the space in between us and the eighteen-wheeler, grabbing onto its large passenger side mirror for leverage.

She opened the door and slid into the eighteen-wheelers cab. Seconds later the driver of the truck was flung out, his body slamming against our door, ricocheting off into to the highway behind us.

Connor had climbed to the front of our car, taking a seat next to me as I drove. "What is she doing?"

"Fuck if I know." I shot back.

The eighteen-wheeler veered off to the left suddenly, never decreasing its speed, the trailer it pulled not able to keep up with change of direction. It tipped over, then began to jack knife across the freeway.

"Oh shit." Connor turned and watched as the eighteen-wheeler flipped over and over across the freeway, exploding in a violent blast.

I kept driving straight, not sure what to do next as the explosion lit up the sky behind us. Connor was fully turned around in his seat, watching everything go down as I tried to focus on the road ahead and stare out the rearview mirror at the same time.

There was no way Darkstar could have survived that explosion, yet my knowledge of demon physiology was nonexistent and I honestly didn't know what she was capable of. Hell, after these last few hours, I didn't even know what I was capable of. Connor turned back around in his seat, snapping on his seatbelt, like that was gonna help our current situation.

I did know one thing though. "We need to get the fuck out of California." I said.

"I'm way ahead of you on that." Connor pulled out his cell. "Fuck this city. How fast are you going?"

I shrugged. "I don't know?" I glanced down. "Hundred and five."

"Slow down." He stated. "We don't need to draw any more attention to us then need be."

I decreased the cars acceleration to be more in line with the current speed limit. "Okay, so what's our next move?"

Connor typed in a series of numbers into his cell then waited for a response. "Hello? Hey, Mr. Guy who pilots all my planes, it's me, Connor...yeah, crazy shit huh? All over the news you say? Well I did hear on good authority that the Bay Area was the epicenter of mutant deviancy. I don't know, it's like their Mecca or something. Uh huh. It didn't mention anything about me did it? Right, right, well God blesses fucking America or some shit like that, anyway, get my plane ready for take...yes, well of course now. Fuck you mean it's not refueled yet? Look, I'm not paying you to sit around on your ass and watch the news all goddamn day, have my shit ready by the time I get there, which should be, Gods willing, in the next hour or so or heads will roll and trust me, I mean that quite literally. I'll use that bitch as a bowling ball. Get it encased in amber and everything. Yeah, I thought so. Why thank you. Oh and have a nice day."

Connor hung up the cell and looked at me. "Plane should be good to go by the time we get there, just follow the signs to the airport, we should be okay."

"What about Jenova?" I asked.

Connor glanced back at the pillar of black smoke behind us. "Yeah, what about her?"

"You think she survived? You think she's still alive?" I asked.

He did a double take at the smoke. "I don't know."

"We just can't leave her Connor. If there's some chance that she's alive..." I knew she was. I couldn't explain how I knew it, but I felt it in my soul.

"Look kid, I'm glad for everything she did. I am really. Pulling you out from wherever the hell it was you were at and getting that body of yours to work again, I'm grateful for that, I owe her one. Not to mention the way she just manned up and took one for the team just now, that was some crazy...did you see how she just jumped over to the truck and flipped that bitch over? No hesitation. No second guessing. That's crazy. That's some Michael Bay shit right there and I, no, you and me both, we owe her for that. I mean, that chick is like, forever in our debt."

Connor looked out the window for a second then turned towards me. "But did you tell her to jump out the car? I know I didn't. I'm glad she took the initiative and all that, but I didn't tell her to do that. If she's still alive then she's ass deep in the Translucent Man's Marauders by now. You wanna tangle with them cats again, because I sure as hell don't. Didn't they shoot you through a wall? Who in the fuck gets shot through a wall? You do, that's who and that was the least of what they did. Look, I'm sorry, but we are not prepared for that type of opposition. Maybe later. Get some intel, find out who the fuck this Translucent Man is and what he's about, recruit some backup, then we can surgical strike that shit, do a snatch and grab. I'm down for that, but right now, we got to get the hell out of California. The Translucent Man is out here in a big way, official like. He's got his Marauders and his Wolf Pack hunting down people on this supposed list of his and they are not fucking around. Best thing we can do is get out of the spiders web while we still can, then come back with a water hose, okay?"

"Yeah, okay." As much as I'd hate to admit it, he does have a point. It still doesn't make me feel any better though.

The drive to the airport was uneventful, thank heavens. I was sure that there was gonna be some type of drama before liftoff, but there wasn't. We parked the car and headed towards the private landing strip, boarded Connors plane and was up in the air, headed back towards Palm Coast, Florida and towards what little bit of life I still had left.

I knew that coming to San Francisco was gonna be a game changer for me, but I never, not even in my wildest dreams believed I was going to arrive back in Florida as a Vampire. That option had never even occurred to me. I wasn't sure how the adjustment process was gonna be, how would I be able to live in my old life again when so much of it had been stripped away and replaced with something else?

I thought Connor would give me some type of moral support on the flight home, but once we boarded the plane, he just totally zoned out, staring off at the ceiling. It was creepy how he could sit in one position like that without moving, without even breathing and I wondered if that is how people would see me now?

"What are you thinking about?" I asked once the silence had become deafening.

"The Eden Complex." He said. "And those Marauders, how coordinated and ruthlessly efficient they are."

"Tell me about." I agreed.

Connor came over and sat next to me. This time I was able to see him do it, clock his speed with my Vampire eyes as he got up from his chair and sat down beside me, rather than him just appearing like before.

"No, you don't get it, Madison. I've fought Hunters like them before, people specifically trained to take down Vampires and the like. I've been fighting them for over a fifteen years and I've seen some especially good ones in my day, but these people..."

"You mean the Marauders? The ones who attacked us at the safe house?" The ones who killed me.

"The Marauders." Connor repeated. "I've never seen anything like them before. Their combat training, the type of sophisticated weapons tech they employ. It only took two of them to take me and you down. Two humans with some fancy gadgets, that's all it took."

"To be fair Connor, the only combat experience I have is watching Kung Fu Theater every Sunday morning. It's not like I could have been much help." I admitted.

"That's not the point, Madison. I've killed dozens of humans at a time before, trained men, soldiers built for war. Just the fact that you are Vampire gives you a superior edge over the humans. Your strength, your speed, your intellect, we are to the humans as they are to the chimpanzee."

I appeared at the bar, pouring myself a bottle of that same red wine that I had tried earlier on the flight in. I wanted to see what it would taste like now. "Yeah, but a chimpanzee is strong enough to rip your face off given the chance."

"I think that's exactly what we've done." He said. "We were so lackadaisical with our perceived dominance that we gave the humans a chance and now they've gone and created something that could rip our face off."

I took a sip, smiled, then drained the glass completely, pouring myself a refill. "I thought the Marauders just wanted the people who bare the Mark of Pandora?"

"That's what I thought as well, but that demon, Jenova Darkstar, despite all their talk of casting him out of this dimension, they were still shipping him off to the Eden Complex, same with me as well and I'm not on their list. You were their Primary Target."

"I remember Amastacia and Graul talking." I said. "They were instructed that I had to be deceased before transport."

"I remember." He said.

"Then what good am I to the Translucent Man if I'm already dead?"

"I don't know." Connor admitted reluctantly.

"I still don't look like a corpse do I?" I stretched my arms out in front of me, examining them for defects. As far as I could tell, my body was completely healed.

"No, no, my dear, you're positively exquisite." Connor was very reassuring. "And as a Vampire, you are beyond words."

"You kissed me."

He smiled. "I know."

"I'm with Ethan. That can't happen again Connor."

"I know."

Silence...

"We need to find out what is going on in this Complex of theirs." I decided to change the subject, discarding my glass and drinking straight from bottle. "And we need to find out all the information we can on the Box of Pandora as well. If they are rounding up potential people with the Mark..."

"Then they might be trying to get inside one of the Boxes." Connor finished.

"Or maybe they are trying to figure out how to put something inside it." I added.

"Well I hadn't thought of that."

"Don't worry, I did." I took another swig. "And you're also gonna have to teach me this whole fire thing. Crash course style."

Connor came next to me, taking the bottle out of my hand and taking a sip. "I could try, but it will be difficult."

I took the bottle back from him. "Difficult takes a day."

"And it will be impossibly painful as well. Excruciatingly so." He added. "Are you sure you're up to that?"

"Impossible takes a week. I just had a picnic on the Shores of She'ol with Thanatos the White Wolf. I think I can handle some sunburn."

"Who?" He asked.

"Never mind."

"Fair enough." Connor decided to let it drop. "Anything else?"

"Oh, I'm sure there is. There are lots of Vampire tricks of the trade that you have to teach me..." I took the bottle back from him.

"Of course there are and of course I'll teach them to you, what type of Master would I be if I didn't."

"First off, you're not my Master, I'm nobody's slave. I don't belong to you or anyone. You're more like my..."

"Your teacher." He exclaimed.

Connor thinks he's so smug. "I was thinking more like my tutor."

He nodded in agreement. "I can live with that."

I put the bottle down on the table. "But there's one more thing."

"Oh there's more?" He seemed quite amused at this point, not expecting what I was going to ask for next.

"We find out if Darkstar is alive." I said, my tone deathly serious. "And if she is, we go in and we get her out. Surgical strike, just like you said."

All the comedy drained from his face as Connor became deathly serious. "You have my word on that, Madison, if she's alive, we'll find her and if she's not, then we'll bring that Wonderful World of Oz crashing down around the Translucent Man's head. I swear it."

I poured the last of the blood wine into two crystal glasses and when I was done we raised them in the air for a toast.

"To killing the Wizard." I said.

"To killing the Wizard.' Connor repeated.

I drained the glass, then looked around for a phone, finding one next to a flat screen TV. "Hold on a sec, I wanna call Aiden, let him know I'm on my way home."

Connor nodded, kicking back on the leather sofa and stretched out. It was hard to believe that I was going to be home and safe in just a matter of hours, yet I still kept thinking about how long it would take for the Translucent Man to make his move again.

He already knew where I lived and our escape was sure to come as a blow. It was only a matter of time before there was another showdown with the Marauders. At least this time I would be ready. I picked up the phone and dialed Aiden's cell, hoping they hadn't been worrying about me for too long. What was I even going to say to him? That I was a Vampire now? Would I even tell him something like that?

And what about Ethan? Me kissing Connor was the least of his worries now. John Rogers, young John Rogers that is, told us that he also bore the Mark of Pandora, same as me. If the Marauders are hunting down people who bare the Mark then it was only a matter of time before the Translucent Man's Wolf Pack sniffed him out.

Aiden answered the phone and I could tell almost immediately that something was wrong.

"Yeah, it's me. What? Slow down you're not making any sense. Yeah, I'm on my way home now, but it might take a little bit for me to get there. What? No, no, stop fucking around, Aiden that's not funny. Who told you that? The police? Wait, are you even sure it was the police? I know it's a stupid question but are...you've what? Yeah, I heard you. You already identified the...When? Okay. Yeah, I'm on my way now. Yeah. Love you to. Bye."

The phone dropped from my hand. I just stood there not knowing what to do. It was like a knife had been driven into my heart and someone was continuously twisting the blade. Connor was beside me in an instant, his hands on my shoulders.

"What's wrong?" He asked. "What happened?"

"It's my parents."

"What about your parents Madison?"

I looked up at Connor, blood red tears streaking down the side of my face as I tried to talk. "They're dead."

To be continued....

Author Bio

I am currently hyper extending myself into the space between moments to do battle with carnivorous sound and cannibalistic electrons...

