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𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘-𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 : 𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 

𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐎𝐔𝐓

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I woke the next morning with an aching body and still covered in mud.

I had come inside last night and for a brief moment, carefully took my shoes off and put the groceries away, and then fell asleep instantly in the warmth of my bed. I didn't give myself time to even think of what had happened, to truly process everything that I had witnessed in less than five hours.

Gretchen Cork was dead, killed by Jeb Reed.

At least, he made it seem like it was him.

Jeb Reed was also dead, Spiorad had done her job quickly after I had, of course, gotten brutally beaten up first.

His name was marked off in my mother's journal, the book laying open on my side table with my pen still resting against it's neatly lined pages. I had only eight more demons to go through before Cage's plight could be resolved and the threat would finally be gone and I'd be free.

Well, I'd be free the second the tarot cards were enacted and completed. The idea of those cards still being able to play a role in my life sent a cold shiver down my spine and an irreversible anger towards Wrath for allowing me to take part in her little games.

I sat up from my bed and slowly slid my legs out from under the covers. I scowled, I would have to do laundry at some point, my blankets were filthy.

I felt true pain the second I stood up and stretched lightly, my back and sides and face bringing out a sudden dull ache that grew and grew that I had to double over slightly to catch my breath. I trudged slowly into my bathroom, bracing myself against the doorframe as I turned the light on and looked at myself, truly looked at myself, in the mirror.

I had deep, dark circles under my eyes and my hair was matted and clumped with dried mud. The cut along my cheek was puffy and red and there was dried blood crusted through the center line, dark and brown. Along the cut was the beginning stages of a large bruise that was spread across my cheek. I brought my fingers up to it and winced, it didn't seem like I was going to be able to cover it up well enough without hurting.

The bruise on my face stretched from near my eyes and down the course of my cheek bone and jaw. Reed had struck me with everything he had and it was apparent just how strong he truly was by the monster creeping across my face.

I stripped out of my jacket and rest of my clothes after turning the shower on and I caught a look at the bruising across my ribs and stomach from where he had hit me so hard I couldn't catch my breath. I had bruises around one ankle from where he had grabbed me, yanking me across the earth and into his clutches and when I turned around to look at my back, I noticed the artwork of bruises from hitting the ground too many times.

I suppressed a yawn because opening my mouth too wide sent a shooting pain through my face as I got into the shower. In an instant there was brown, dirty water circling the drain as water rained down my sore shoulders and bruised back. Even my legs and thighs were sore, the muscles never having worked this hard before. Hell, I don't even remember the last time I was sore like this. The way my muscles ached when I moved and breathed, the tightness in my legs and arms, the soreness right between my shoulder blades and abs.

I reached for my shampoo bottle and winced, I must've fallen pretty hard on this arm during it all. I finished showering and rinsing the dried mud and blood off my body before getting out, steam trailing after me.

I dried off and dressed slowly, slipping into a loose shirt and shorts. I spent the majority of the day cleaning after that, picking up my dirty clothes and taking the sheets off the bed to wash. After that, I took even more time just heating up some of the old pizza and popping a couple Advil before sitting down at the counter, first and fourth journal in hand.

I realized that the first three journals were mostly just my mother's very ordinary diary entries. Some of them, however, contained little incantations she'd be trying to replicate and perfect.

Eating a bite from my pizza, I flipped to the next page, studying her handwriting and the small notes in the margins. I wanted to try out these spells, but a part of me was terrified of that sort of thing, believe it or not. I wasn't afraid to kill someone, if I really needed to in order to survive, but I was afraid of what magic I'd create by saying a tiny, little spell.

I didn't want to awaken anything, to bring forth something darker and scarier than what I've already faced and read about. But as I studied the little spell, I couldn't help but whisper the words and then looked up to see if it had worked.

"Luceo non uro. Et ignis exoritur. In flammas incipere."

(My rough translation being: I shine, not burn. The fire rises. The flames begin.)

The set of old candles before me were still and then, one by one, a small flame rose up from the wick. I looked down at the incantation and followed the next step as I whispered, "Citius, altius, fortius!"

(Faster, higher, stronger.)

The little flames grew long and thick and burned brighter than before. I reached forward, brushing my hand near the fire and feeling the warmth radiating and moving. I couldn't believe it had worked, even with my shitty accent and not knowing a lick of Latin to begin with. I ran my finger over the notes and found the next line and began to work out the words slowly before finally speaking out the line.

"Et flammas occidere. Cesset ignis. Deflagrare iras, dona nobis pacem."

(The flames/killing. Cease-fire. Burn out, that, for us the gifts of peace.)

All at once, the flames died and went out. Wax slid down the stick slowly before it hardened and froze, no longer having the heat melting it away.

It was strange to see this was what my mother had been working on, keeping track of in her long lists of journals and notes. The incantations were easy enough but maybe it was only easy for me because of what lies in my veins. If my mother's warnings and notes were correct, I had a lot more in my blood than just my sight inherited from Cage. With my practice, I'm sure my usage of incantations from these little books would only grow stronger.

My eyes flickered to Spiorad on the counter and I was struck down by the realities of what I had done last night. Jeb Reed was dead, there was no body to mourn over, nothing left for a family to grieve for. I hadn't even hesitated when I had raised my weapon, hadn't thought twice when I brought it down with a quirky one liner I was sure would end it all.

How had that simple blade brought more fear into the killer's eyes than the idea of actually dying? How did its presence alone bring out terror in the evil that resided within him? How could a simple knife bring a murder to his knees?

I reached for the knife and I felt the tug and pull in my gut that told me we were connected somehow, that this blade was meant for me from the very beginning. It held such an intimate bond that it was hard to believe that it was only a weapon and not a living, breathing person calling out to me from a constant unknown.

I gripped the handle and brought it closer, running a finger over the tip and feeling the sharpness, the slight pain. Was this welded in my blood? Was it bathed in the blood of my ancestors as it killed for them? Did my mother know what this would feel like for me to be sitting here, holding it against my flesh like it didn't get pleasure from carving the skin of demons and evil?

I rested the knife back down on the counter, flattening my palm against the hilt. It was so cold against me, icy like a spirit when it came too close and perhaps this blade took hold of the souls it killed but I shook my head. I wanted to think that somewhere, Jeb Reed's soul still floated. That Spiorad didn't tear him apart like it looked like when the golden light flung out from him like a shadow of rain or blood.

My hand left the knife as my thoughts drifted over to Gretchen Cork, how lifeless and empty her body had been. She was only a shell once the semi hit her and tore her apart like she was nothing more than glass shattering.

I had seen two spirits cast out of her after the impact, two souls clawing and screaming and fighting. Perhaps it truly was Reed who had possessed her, but maybe it wasn't. I hadn't recognized the ghost when it had appeared. I had seen Gretchen's fearful expression as it wrestled with the other creature residing in her, but other? It moved too fast, its shape had been distorted and foggy, like it had been trying to hide itself from me.

There were more players within this big game I was engaged in. There were more evil to be fought, and one of those evil's took hold of Gretchen's body and forced her into oncoming traffic.

It was such a vivid image. The way her body was crumpled and twisted underneath itself and yet, she still had one arm out. Her palm had been open, facing the skies and heaven s as if she was merely an offering in this war, she was a sacrifice, a warning for what was at stake. They weren't afraid to kill people I knew, other students even. They weren't afraid to murder my family, why should I have been surprised to see her get killed too?

She had looked right at me like she knew I was across the road. The thing inside her recognized me, my car, and made sure I knew it. It had waited until I had recognized them in their own car before truly taking its hold. I could only hope that she fought until the last second before it took control and then took her life without a second thought.

I called Blondie that evening before going to bed and she answered me with a dull, croaking hello before she erupted in darkened tears. Her voice was hoarse, her nose stuffed up, and in the background of our call, I could hear both Winker and her mother. I didn't want her to feel like I forgot what we had witnessed, I didn't want her to think she was alone.

We didn't hang up until well after midnight.

~

School was buzzing with the news of Gretchen's death before first period hit.

Students chatted and gossiped right up until Brown announced we were having an assembly. The school didn't know how to handle this, nothing like this had happened in our little high school community and we could tell.

Pandora gripped my hand tightly when he delivered the news, speaking slowly into the microphone as he stared at our tear streaked faces.

"There was a tragic accident Saturday afternoon," he said and Blondie's chorus of sobs told the rest of the story before he even had too. "This will be a catastrophic change within our community with her loss. She was such a bright, studious person who brought so much to this school and to these people. We will be working on setting up a small memorial outside school and where we will be planting a cherry blossom tree in her honor. Her family hopes to see some of you at the service this evening."

Pandora didn't let up on her grip until we were leaving the theater where we held our school assemblies, her nails digging into the palm of my hand but I ignored the sting. She finally let go once we reached her locker and she leaned her head inside to breathe heavily out of the view of other students.

"And you said you were there?" she whispered in a harsh voice only because she was straining against the urge to cry. "That you saw it happen?"

I nodded grimly, leaning against the closest locker to her with my arms crossed. I had my eyes on the halls, wondering where Ace had gone. I had seen him for a brief moment this morning but the moment the gossiping had started, he was deep in conversation with John.

"I was across the intersection," I murmured, my eyes scanning the faces and bodies in the hall. Last I had heard, Blondie was on her way to Brown's office with Winker in tow. "But Panda...she wasn't...she wasn't herself."

She moved her head out of her locker, wiping her nose with her hand as she looked over at me with hooded eyes, "Was she possessed?"

I nodded. "Demon, I'm nearly positive."

I filled her in on what happened the night before and it ended with her head back in her locker forcing air through her nose and out her mouth.

"He-he's dead?"

I nodded again, moving closer to her to run my hand over her back. "I had no choice, you know that, right?"

She nodded, running two hands over her head before standing up straight and closing her locker door. "It's just, all of this seems so real now. Sure, it was real before with the morgue and the-the blood in the hospital, but people actually dying? You-you actually killing someone? Like, come on Blaire, this can't all be real, right? This can't be our new reality."

I crossed my arms, closing my eyes for a moment to gather myself because she was right. How could this be our new lives? How did it come to this?

"Reed said there'd be more after him to come after me," I said, sighing as I opened my eyes again. I kept my voice low and a whisper as students brushed past us on their way to our delayed first period classes. "Crow promised them a huge raise if they can kill me in the next two weeks."

"Okay...so we just have to stop them first."

I nodded.

She reached out, brushing the hair out of my face to study the bruising across my cheek and she frowned. "He really got you good, didn't he?"

I gave her a tight smile, feeling the pull on the bruise and the swelling as I did so. The bruise had shifted to a deep purple, outlined with yellow as it already was beginning the stages of healing. The cut, however, was still angry and thin, scabbing over. "I'll be more careful next time, I know what to do."

"Yeah, you mean you know how to run for your life," she said, forcing a laugh and I mimicked her smile. "You don't think they'll come after me or Ace?"

I stopped myself from shrugging. I couldn't scare her, I couldn't stress her out so I lied with a smile, "No, of course not!" But I knew from the slight look in her eyes that she knew I was lying but she smiled anyways, grinning widely.

We both knew she was at risk, that they both were. It was easier to ignore and forget, keep from stressing ourselves out over the fact that we could die too. We could get possessed and thrown into traffic just as easily as Gretchen had.

She adjusted the strap on her backpack and turned with me to walk towards my locker to get my books. "Got any clue which Morticianer is going to come after you next?"

I shook my head. "Could just as easily be John or Crow, I just hope they give me some time in between beatings to get my face back to normal."

Pandora stifled a laugh as she asked, "Has anyone sent you to office yet for that? It seriously looks like you got beat up behind the bleachers."

I nudged her, rolling my eyes as I got to my locker and threw it open after a moment to shake my head at her with a grin. I grabbed my books and from down the hall, I could hear Blondie's sobbing. I closed my locker slowly and Pandora and I both turned to see what was going on, keeping our faces as neutral as possible to not make her feel worse than she already did.

I had almost expected her to be wearing sweats, to be wearing something similar to pajamas but she was perfect. The white jeans didn't have a single mark, her pink cardigan was bright as ever, and the little matching pink tank underneath was fitted perfectly to her chest. She wore a set of pearls across her neck and her hair was down, moving with her as her shoulders shook and tears ran down her face.

She wasn't wearing makeup, which probably was a good thing considering the mess of hot tears rolling down her cheeks. Her face was red and she looked sweaty but she looked good, considering the trauma she got a front row seat to.

She spotted me on her way to the front doors and she froze, her shoulder's slumping as she brought a hand up to her face as if to shield the unwanted eyes of her tears. Her face scrunched up and she came hurtling towards me as I pushed off and away from the lockers, grabbing hold of her weakened body.

Blondie clung to me, gripping the back of my jacket tightly in her balled up fists. I could feel her tears running down my neck, hot and humid and so human. Her body shuddered as it was racked with sob after sob, her breathing hitching in her throat every two loud cries.

"You're-you're coming t-to the service tonight?" she asked, pulling back with her hands on my shoulders.

I nodded, brushing the hair from her face that clung to her warm skin. "Of course I'll be there."

She took hold of my hand with both of hers and she sniffled loudly, nodding with a small smile. "Promise to sit with me?"

I nodded again and gave her a gentle smile that read we saw the same things, we have the same memories, you're not alone in this. "I'll find you there, okay? But go home, you shouldn't have to be here."

She let out a slow breath and nodded, looking over her shoulder to Winker who stood with her backpack in his hands. He probably seemed just as confused as Pandora was to have Blondie grasping me like we were sisters, sisters bound by trauma and gore.

"Go," I whispered again, giving her a nudge towards the door and she gave me a breathless laugh, taking her warmth with her as she left. I stepped back and away, going to my locker. I grabbed my books and bag, adjusting the strap on my shoulder as I turned to Pandora and before she could ask me what the hell that was, I said, "I stayed with her, at the accident sight, I couldn't just leave her."

"Yeah," she murmured. "Gave Reed just enough time to get into your backseat though."

I rolled my eyes as we began our walk to our first classes. "As if it was Blondie's fault for what happened."

Pandora sighed. "I know, but...you two aren't friends. She doesn't like me and she doesn't like you-"

"She saw her best friend die," I whispered, turning to face Pandora who seemed to have a trace of jealousy in her eyes. "I saw Gretchen die, Panda. She's experiencing something similar to what I had to go through just a week before, so I get what she's going through, you know? I get that pain and I...I just can't let her be alone."

Pandora forced a weak smile, shifting her weight between her feet. "I'm not gonna have to start fighting for your attention from her, am I? Because I will. I don't care that she's seen death, I'll-" she jabbed at the air and I laughed, knowing she was just messing around to lighten the mood. "-give her a little of this!"

"I'm sorry I'm just so lovable," I laughed, reaching up to my face to wipe the remains of Blondie's tears and sweat from my neck. "I'm just so approachable."

We parted ways for the majority of the day up until lunch. But once the day was over and I had in fact not seen Ace in any of the classes I shared with him along with John, it became apparent to me that the two were closer friends than they had let on. Even when I saw them leave school together, like they had been held up somewhere, just the two of them, for hours.

"Strange, isn't it?" Pandora asked, following my eyes as we left for our cars. "That they're suddenly 'buddy-buddy?'"

"They were like this at my mom's funeral," I murmured, narrowing my eyes from the sun peeking out through the clouds as if we had anything to be thankful for. As if we deserved the sun and the warmth coating our skin when death still lingered in the air, hungry and ready for more. "I didn't know they were so close."

"They definitely had their ups and downs, especially when it came to dating Blondie but I don't remember them being attached at the hip," she said with a soft laugh as we neared her car. She spun on her heel, gripping her books with both hands, her car keys dangling off of her pinky finger. "Drive together to the funeral? Or separate?"

"I'm thinking separate, it's still a school night," I said but gave her a wink and she shook her head with a more tremendous laugh as she unlocked her car and threw her books in the back seat along with her bag. "So, pick you up at five?"

I nodded, pulling my keys from my bag as I said over my shoulder, "Want to get dinner after?" It was so casual asking that, like we were just going to the park or the mall or to study, not like we were about to attend the funeral for a classmate.

"I'm craving Mexican!" she called after me and I couldn't contain my grin as she added, "Don't forget to cover up that nasty bruise, don't want to give all those parents the wrong idea."

"Oh, shut up," I laughed, shaking my head as I gave her a wave goodbye and unlocked the doors to my car. I was putting my books and bag down in the passenger seat when I felt him creep up behind me and when I turned, I hadn't expected my vision to flash gray and see the outline of Gretchen standing within the rows of cars.

She was standing with her arms down by her sides, her hair was messy and even with the distance, I could tell she was covered in blood. She opened her mouth, as if to say something, but the gray vanished and so did she.

The world seeped into color and I blinked, looking at Ace and John who were standing before me with confused looks sketched across their features. I hadn't realized the differences in the two men before they were standing right in front of me, their bodies contrasting the other. I would never have guessed they were such close friends.

Ace was dark, his hair longer and thicker around his head. He always seemed to be wearing black jeans and some dark colored shirt. He had a few rings across his hands and a chain dangling from his belt loops. He had a similar chiseled out jawline like John's, but he was all anger and closed off seduction. I could see what Blondie saw when she had dated him.

But John, oh John. He was exactly what a high school captain of the football team would look like. Tall, tanned skin flecked with dots of freckles, big dark eyes that made girls swoon. His hair was thick and short, completely different from Ace's darker look. He was always seen in his letterman jacket, save for the times he'd wear just a collared polo or a suit. He was handsome, I'll admit it as much as it pains me, he was incredibly handsome. But he was a stereotypical eighteen year old with a secret, one that he hadn't quite realized I knew the full extent of.

"What the hell happened to your face?" Ace demanded, stepping forward and taking my head into his hands. He turned my face from side to side, inspecting the damage as I scowled and batted his hands away as he said, "Jesus, Blaire, who hurt you?"

John stood with his hands in his pockets and I kept myself from narrowing my eyes and hissing something along the lines of you know who did this to me, you know who tried to kill me, you bastard. He kicked the ground with his sneaker as he said with a smirk, "If you need us to return the favor to whoever hurt you, we'd be happy to."

I rolled my eyes. "Don't worry, I already took care of it."

He stared at me, his facial expression now blank but his eyes were wide. I was hoping he caught on to what I had been implying because his lips curled upward into another smirk as Ace's face dropped. "Tougher than you look."

"Duh," I sighed, turning to close my car door. I turned and crossed my arms, hoping this conversation with him would end so Ace and I could properly catch up. "Going to the service, tonight?"

John nodded, nudging a broken piece of gravel with the toe of his shoe. "Cass told us you were there, that you saw it happen."

I nodded back, dropping my arms to my sides. "Yeah, I was."

"Just really wanted to say thank you, for staying with her that night," he mumbled, giving Ace a sideways glance. He seemed genuine, like he truly cared for the other girl. "I can't even imagine what that must've been like, to see it happen."

I didn't say anything but I dropped my eyes from his. Her eyes were unwavering, one arm lifted and a single finger pointing directly towards me. Her controlled body stepped out into the road. The sound of bone cracking and splintering. The wet crunch and splash of her body hitting the street. The screaming, all over, everywhere. Dark blood seeping out of a broken, already dead, body. Her limbs twisted and contorted, no longer human like. Flesh carved and cracked and split open, her blood only a mere offering to the demons that laughed.

"How have you been holding up since then?" Ace asked and John's eyes perked up and the two looked at me, really looked at me.

"I've been better," I admitted, brushing some hair from my face and holding back the wince as my fingers brushed the cut. I shrugged, tracing the ground with my foot just like John was doing to avoid eye contact as I said, "It's hard to imagine she's gone, I mean, I saw her just a few hours before and everything was fine-"

"You saw her the day she died?" John asked and his eyes darted up, as did mine at the tone in his voice. I nodded slowly and he frowned, looking down at me as he said, "That's so freaky, why'd she go see you?"

"Her and Cass brought me food," I said and Ace's brows went up in surprise. "They missed the funeral and wanted to bring me something, we ate a late lunch together, the three of us."

John shook his head. "Too freaky."

I checked my invincible watch, trying to find a way out of this conversation as I murmured, "I have to go home, get ready for later. I'll see you both there?"

John nodded and began walking away as Ace took a step closer to me and in a hushed voice asked, "Overheard that Panda is giving you a ride, can I tag along?"

I nodded.

"Good, then you can tell me who really gave you those bruises."

I smiled softly and nodded again, finally free once he started retreating. I walked around to the driver's side and ran my hand along the bed of the truck, watching the two boys get into the same car together and drive off.

~

I dressed in my simple black dress and heels, my favorite funeral attire.

I hadn't anticipated I would need to wear it again so soon, three days after my mother's funeral. It all seemed so surreal, to have a funeral already, especially for one for someone I knew who was my age. She was only eighteen and yet, she was dead.

I fixed my small cross so it danced in the middle of my collarbones, feeling comforted by the cool metal laying gently against my skin. I admired my face in the mirror, fixing a spot where the concealer hadn't been blended properly, it was the best I could do to hide the bruising, but the cut was still so vibrant against my pallor. Running my fingers over the dress, I smoothed out the material as I heard my phone buzz. I had made sure to pack both my phones into my purse, along with my cigarettes and lighter, and some cash for dinner. I grabbed my leather jacket, clean and fresh from the wash, and secured Spiorad in it's secret pocket as I glanced at my phone to see who had messaged me.

Here. Let me in, it's cold out.

I smiled, grabbing my things and heading down the stairs. When I threw open the front door, Ace was smiling at me with his hands in pockets and his hair being swept across his face by the growing wind.

"Looks like it might storm after all today," he sighed as he came in.

"Well, don't you look handsome," I laughed, walking into the kitchen and placing my things on the counter to wait for Pandora. I sat down in one of the chairs, lounging back and crossing one leg over the other, bouncing my foot as I eased the tension off of my heels.

"This old thing?" he mused, shaking his head. He looked past me and what was on the counter, his eyes drawn to the journals as he sighed, "So unfair that only you can touch them."

I turned in my seat, running my fingertips over the closest journal, feeling the leather against my skin. I smiled softly, itching to throw it open and read and read until my eyes were blurry. "There's not much in there for you to see, or know."

Don't tell him about your mother's heritage, a little voice in the back of my head rang out and I paused. Why wouldn't I want to tell him? What made myself think this? He's friends with John and John's a demon, you can't trust him...not yet.

"Don't want others to know your family's juicy secrets?" he asked, coming to stand next to me.

I shrugged, "It's not necessarily my secrets to share. They were my mom's and it's her story, you know? It's what she would've wanted."

"Maybe, one day, you can show me them," he said softly, his hand coming to my arm. His skin was warm against mine and I fought back the shiver that threatened to creep down my spine. "When you're ready, and when your mother's story is ready to be told."

I looked up at him and nodded, surprised to feel myself slightly breathless.

He got closer, keeping one hand on my arm and the other going up to my face. He grimaced, running his thumb over my cheek. "Tell me what happened."

"Jeb Reed is dead."

His hand didn't falter as he brushed back some of my hair to see how far the bruising went. Even with the makeup, he could still see it. "You kill him?"

I nodded, biting the inside of my cheek. "He snuck into my car, attacked me out in the woods, and-and I had to do what I had to."

He nodded slowly, breathing out evenly. "He got you good, Blaire, god. How did you even do it? How did you get away?"

"Spiorad, the knife," I murmured, moving my hand to grasp his. I squeezed it softly, hoping he understood what I had to do, that I didn't have a choice. The way he looked at me in return told me I was right, that he knew exactly what I did and he wasn't angry. "He..."

He shushed me by running his fingers over the cut and I wanted to close my eyes, to inch away at the ache but I couldn't move from the warmth he was spreading over me. "He tried to kill you, you don't have to justify yourself to me. You did what you had to in order to live, he-" he let out a heavy breath, shaking his head. "-he, god, Blaire, he hurt you."

"It's not that bad, honest," I whispered, surprised to find my voice so soft and quiet. What was he doing to me? Why was I acting like some moonstruck girl?

"Did he...?"

"Hurt me anywhere else?"

He nodded firmly.

I moved my hand from him and touched my shoulder as I said, "My back and side are sore, and I have some bruising on my stomach, but that's it, honest. He didn't get me that bad."

"He cut you, he made you bleed-"

"Yeah, and I got him back for it," I said, forcing a laugh to relax him and the tension in his face eased as he murmured with a small smile, "You got that right."

I opened my mouth to say something else but both of our phones buzzed and I looked away, smiling softly still, as I read the text and murmured, "Panda's here, we better get going."

He nodded, stepping back and away, his hand leaving my arm, not even realizing he had it still resting there until the warmth left with him. I stood, grabbing my things and followed him out of my house and into Pandora's car, where she was playing Fleetwood Mac's 'The Chain' so loudly, we could hear it from my front porch.

And we continued to listen to that song all the way to the church with Pandora screaming the lyrics with a watery smile, as if it could heal us, heal her. I couldn't blame her, the song itself brought something out in all of us that the environment was different when we left the car and headed towards Clandestine.

As we ascended the stairs, Ace's hand came to the small of my back, guiding me with him and inside and I ignored how it felt so right to have him close like this. I was touch starved and every little brush of his hand, and the feather light pressure of his palm against my back made my heart flutter and my skin burn.

The church was decorated similarly to the way Macabre had done my mother's visitation and funeral service. Flowers by the doors and pews, and then photographs and large bouquets of billowing flowers near the closed casket. The flowers were all shades of colors and I smiled, leaning forward to smell one near the doorway and taking in its soft smells.

As we got through the doorway and towards the grieving family, the rain began outside. Loud and pounding against the roof and echoing through the near silent room from the open doors. It seemed that god was shedding his tears just in time.

There were rows of people already inside, sitting and waiting for the service to begin and for the visitation to slowly end. When we made it down to Gretchen's parents and younger brother, I was surprised to be grasped by her mother in a tight embrace.

I looked at Pandora over my shoulder, brows furrowing as I gave the older woman a hug. She pulled back, wiping her cheeks with her hand as she said, "Y-you're the girl who was with Cassandra, isn't that right?"

I nodded and the woman took hold of my hands.

"Thank you, for staying with her, for staying with my baby girl for as long as you did," she cried, her face scrunching up as her emotions overcame her and she was sobbing. This woman, this sobbing woman, didn't deserve what had happened to her eldest child.

This sweet, poor family didn't deserve this.

Gretchen's father wrapped an arm around his wife and pulled her back and into him with a sympathetic smile as he said to me, "Thank you so much."

I nodded again, giving them a sad smile before Ace's hand returned to my back and he was guiding me away and towards the pews. There wasn't much else to be said between me and the family besides my deepest condolences and they already knew that. They were going to be getting a lifetime of apologies and sympathies. It would surely follow them to the grave.

We walked down the aisle and towards the group of people we all recognized outside of the family members. I smiled softly, giving Blondie a knowing look that she returned. She wore a simple black dress with long sleeves. She looked so small sitting there, John's hand clasped in her own and Winker standing and leaning against the pew from the aisle.

John opened his mouth to speak but the world faded and everyone froze. I turned slowly, looking around for the only speck of color besides myself in our gray world.

I saw her standing near the casket, her back to me. She wore what she was when she died, the big shirt now covered in blood and soaking wet. There were droplets of water against the floor by her feet, along with a few specks of blood. Her blue jeans were torn around the knees and was bloody, thin lines of blood running down from her exposed ankles. I slowly walked up to her, leaving the small group behind to get closer and closer to her.

I didn't need to say anything when I came to stand by her and she didn't turn her head as she began to speak.

"Funny, I didn't expect it to be you."

I clasped my hands together in front of me, adjusting my grip on my jacket. "Who did you want to be here?"

She shrugged, keeping her eyes forward and on the pictures of herself from when she was younger. "I don't know, but I'm glad it's you."

"Really?"

She nodded. "Believe it or not, I was starting to think we were going to be friends and then, well, you know..."

"Do you remember what happened?" I asked, thinking of how robotic she was when she got out of her car and how she pointed at me. She moved like someone who was being controlled and I hoped she knew that.

"Things were dark and cold and wet," she whispered, her fingers curling and uncurling against her palms. "It felt like something was clawing me up from the inside, like something was tearing and pulling me apart. It wanted out, it wanted to come out and when it did-" she shuddered, her hands now bunched into tight fists. "-all I felt was pain in those last moments before everything went numb and I was empty again."

"Do you remember who possessed you?"

She paused, her lips forming a thin line. Her eyes searched the altar before us, eyes running over flowers and photos and the life she would never get back. "It was so cold, whatever it was. I felt...a horrible darkness come over me, like I was drowning in it. It didn't force me out, it didn't take control until we were at the light. It was just there, inside, waiting."

"Was it a person?"

She shook her head. "Not until I was already...dead did it take a human shape. Inside me, it was just a mass of black nothingness," she brought her hands up to her neck as she said, "trying to swallow me whole, to choke me. But it wasn't even there, it just wanted me afraid, uncomfortable, anxious."

She turned to face me and I could see the hollowness in her eyes, the dark circles. She looked as if she was sunken in, withering away like the spirits in the Rose Hill cemetery. Her skin looked papery thin, white as a sheet, and her hair lacked its usual shine and was instead matted down with blood, debris, and rainwater that still dripped off her ends.

"It was evil," she whispered, her lips cracked and pale. "I felt evil inside me, screaming out your name. It wanted you to see what it did to me, as a warning. Don't let this thing take more lives." She turned away from me, looking back at the casket and reaching a hand out to touch it. I watched in awe as her fingers ran against the glistening wood, her body shuddering as she sighed. "Send me home, Blaire, I want to go home now."

I opened my mouth to tell her I didn't know how, that I didn't have a clue where to even begin to help her but I pressed my lips together to keep from looking like a gaping fool. I held out my hand to her, wanting to only show her I was here and I'd find a way and wouldn't stop until I figured it out.

She took my hand in hers and the world began to grow warm, like the feeling of the sun against bare skin. Her grip on me tightened and she smiled, her face now seeping with newborn life as her color returned and her hair fell past her shoulders in loose, wavy curls. The blood was drawn out of her clothes and she was clean again, dry completely from head to toe save for the tears running down her cheeks.

"Blaire Lake," she laughed, her voice so soft and airy like the world was taking her up into her arms. "The great necromancer...who would've thought?"

She opened her mouth as the glittering light began to pour out of her from my touch alone. Her own willingness to leave this place made her soul free, it no longer kept her tied to this plane as the geata I created took her away.

When the light died down and I had to hold up my now empty hand to shield my eyes, color was back and the world was moving. I sniffled, surprised to find myself overcome with such an intense emotion of belonging and emptiness.

Things were changing all around me and death was staring me in the face. The tarot card's meanings hit me from all sides and I was sure this change was good. I needed this, to avenge my family, to save the restless souls that wandered without meaning or purpose. I couldn't move on until it was done, until my friends were safe and I was free.

"Blaire?" Pandora's soft voice called out from behind me and I turned, wiping at my eyes as she said, "I thought you were right next to me, I didn't even see you come over here." She lifted a brow as if to say, was it a ghost? and I nodded back to her and she closed the short distance around us to stand by me and take my hand. We stood together, hand in hand similar to how Gretchen Cork had taken mine for the last time.

It felt good, to have friends who would be there for me and I was glad I was the last face Gretchen saw before her time was up. I was glad it was me she said goodbye too and that I could help her.

It seemed, after all this time, I had the power to send them away hiding in my fingers and hands. It was the soul's heart that determined whether or not they simply went up or down, and it was their willingness to finally leave is what sent them away.

If a spirit didn't want to leave and I touched them, nothing would change. They would still be here, roaming and crawling until they decided their time was up.

When I decided.

I was the barrier between them and everything they craved. It was my choice, my power, that they needed so badly. It felt so good to be needed, to feel that true sense of belonging Cage must've felt for most of his life. I was the only one who could help now, the only one who had the sight into the gray the Morticianers, and surely every other demon out there, sought out after.

It was the power they wanted and it was my power to keep.

~

"I'm going to get some air," I whispered, giving her hand a squeeze before forcing a smile to the small group standing and talking by the pews where I had left them to speak to Gretchen.

I walked down the aisle, feeling the hair on the back of my neck and arms rise up. A small chill crawled up my arms and legs and I rolled my neck, easing the tension out as I pushed open the big church doors that had been shut in preparation for the service. I knew I was going to miss it but I felt as if I'd paid my respects in the deepest way possible, already.

And I was in dire need of a cigarette to hide the shaking in my fingers.

I knew Pandora had felt it but she hadn't said a thing, knowing that whoever I had seen in the gray was someone I didn't have the nerve to speak about. At least, not yet.

I fumbled with my purse and pulled out everything I needed. I lit one of the cigarettes and inhaled smoothly, holding it in between my lips as I put everything back. It was still raining, softly now, but I knew there was a small courtyard off to the left of the church where the priests would go for breaks or to be alone.

I ducked down the steps, rounding the corner as I clicked ash off the end of the coffin nail. The courtyard wasn't far from the back door so I knew I was going in the right direction as I headed towards the back, walking along the building to shield myself from the drizzle.

It was a small gravel path that veered off from the back lot where most of the people who worked at the church parked. It was just a small lot with only two cars, one of which was a sleek black, old, muscle car that caught my eyes instantly. I drew my eyes from its shining exterior that had the rain dancing across it's smooth top.

The gravel path was slightly difficult to walk on with my heels but I knew that it was worth the trip. The courtyard was beautiful, surrounded by thick, tall pines and rows of flowers. There was a wooden swing and a picnic table. There were thick vines twirling up the posts of the swing, like nature was trying to take back what was once theirs. It was beautiful, and I was sure if it had been sunny, I wouldn't ever want to leave.

I blew smoke from my lips slowly, crossing one arm to hold the other as goosebumps rose up across my slick skin. It felt good, to feel the world around me.

You're one step closer to everything, I thought to myself. You figured out the one thing that's been holding you back, and it was simple. Too simple. Cage should've just told you.

A flock of birds above my head erupted from the trees, flapping fast wings and soaring up into the sky as it fled the safety of the courtyard. I settled my breathing and strained my ears to hear if anyone was coming up the path I had just taken and I heard it.

Crunch. Crunch. Thunk.

I turned slowly, dropping my arm with the cigarette in front of me as I sighed. "You can't sneak up on me."

The man grinned. "I wasn't trying to."

His fist collided with my face and I felt the warmth of blood burst down from my nose. I fell back onto my butt and didn't even get the chance to kill my cig before he sent another punch and I saw stars.

hope y'all liked this one!! blaire really doesn't seem to ever catch a break !! maybe this next chapter she'll finally have some peace and quiet ;) and maybe even another visit from a friend who's name rhymes with doe

maybe.....maybe not, y'all will just have to read the next chapter to find out 

xxx day