Are you alright? Winnie regarded me, her head emerging slowly from the tangled branches.

Oh yes, I'm fine, I said sarcastically. I've just found out I'm a murderer—possibly a psychotic serial killer—but I'm just dandy.

I was far from alright. A hot, burning anger spread through me, causing a spontaneous growl to roll out, low and threatening. Winnie's eyes widened. She worked backwards against the brush to create as much distance from me as possible. Unapologetic, I turned away from her and focused my attention on the clearing. Sheldon stood in a trance.

The deep scratches left from the unforgiving branches throbbed on my back, but I hardly noticed as I laid—wallowing in self pity—cursing the meddling spirits. To hell with a second chance at life, if that was what they called this ridiculous mess.

What the possessed Sheldon said was true. Winnie was not my guardian angel. She knew what she was doing. She had used me. She hadn't chosen me randomly, she'd had her motives from the beginning. She wasn't on my side.

I could feel her stare resting on my back as I lay watching the entranced body of Sheldon. I knew she was reading my thoughts. Why was she so intent on changing this one event when there were so many countless acts of murder happening every single day? It wasn't like José was a saint of any sort. He was far from it. He'd tried to attack Winter. I, Sheldon, had killed him, saving her. The world was better off without him.

In the clearing Sheldon began to shake. It started from his fingers and worked its way up until his whole body was consumed in spasms. He stood there in the moonlight convulsing like some sort of Frankenstein. His head turned up to the sky and he stared into space blankly, his mouth hanging open in a peculiar manner. Then, all at once he crumpled over like a rag doll and fell to the forest floor in a heap. Silence followed—nothing but the usual creaking of dueling branches in the wind and melodic chirping of crickets.

I pushed aside the bush with my nose for a better look. Is he dead?

Wait! Winnie warned behind me.

His eye lids fluttered and he sat up, rubbing his head, looking bewildered. His dark eyes flitted around the moonlit clearing and rested on his shovel, its handle glinting where he'd dropped it. Cursing, he struggled clumsily to his feet, wavering back and forth for a few seconds. He ran his hands through his hair, looking as if he was trying to remember where the last few moments of his life had gone.

Shaking it off, he headed with determination towards the shovel, and picked it up, along with the large sack and flashlight that lay on the ground, still casting a beam of light off into the woods. He made his way towards José's grave, pulling a pair of workman's gloves from his pocket and strapping them on. Without any hesitation, he began to uncover Jose's body, one shovel of dirt at a time, each scrape sending chills down my spine.

Before we go on, I need to know where your loyalty lies. Winnie projected from behind me.

I stiffened. What do you mean?

Winter is in danger. We need to protect her. In order to do that, we need to stop Sheldon. The only way to stop Sheldon is through you.

Sheldon was protecting Winter when he killed Jose, I projected weakly. I couldn't believe it. She was asking me to side with her against myself. The ultimate betrayal.

It didn't make sense. My memories were telling me that I loved Winter. My mind was full of the two of us, sitting on the barn loft, holding hands, sharing deep intimate thoughts and dreams. I'd thought I was there to fix things with her—whatever mistakes I'd made, so that we would end up together. I was the one who was supposed to save her, she wasn't supposed to be saved from me!

Why me? I turned to look her in the eyes, unable to mask the hurt in mine. Why did you choose me, of all people?

The sound of the shovel continued behind me, flattening my ears with every gut wrenching scrape.

She loved you Pickle, Winnie said. This side of you. And I think that you loved her—you just weren't strong enough.

I blinked. How do you know all that?

She was silent, once again blocking her thoughts from me. I sighed. More secrets. Winnie's covertness was wearing thin.

The foul smell permeated our little dark space. I turned to see Sheldon forcing the uncovered corpse into the gunny sack—grunting, gagging, and swearing all at once. The corpse was clearly not cooperating.

I watched him struggle, fighting the torrents of stench, until the body was deposited securely into the sack. With a chorus of choice words he dragged the sack, unable to lift it, further into the woods. I watched him go, my mouth going dry. Who was I?

Do we follow him? I turned to Winnie.

She shifted behind me, lifting her chin. I need to know your answer.

What if I chose not to help you?

Winnie's eyes grew cold. Then Winter will die.

My heart shook painfully. Her words were sincere. Winter didn't deserve to die. I'll go, I projected.

Winnie pulled herself from the brush and into the empty clearing, her eyes still studying me. Sparky came to land on her back. We watched Sheldon disappear into the woods.

I'll never know what Aria saw in you, Sparky projected from Winnie's back, his eyes blazing. Or why she placed so much faith in you. But know this. If you let her down, the pain of your second death will far outweigh your first.

It might have been laughable, considering the scene, a little sparrow threatening a dog's life. But, I knew he meant every word, and there was no doubt in my mind he'd follow through on it.

Bastion, follow Sheldon.  It will be easier for you than us. Winnie projected. We'll head back to the house. Be careful. The owl—I'm afraid it may be the other side.

***

Sparky flitted from one branch to the next, his sharp eyes focused on the soft glow of the flashlight beaming on the forest ground below.

The damn fool has been dragging it around for a long time, he thought to himself. Folding his wings behind him, he settled himself on a forked branch to rest his legs.

A cold draft swept through the trees, catching under his light feathers, nearly blowing him off the branch. Mentally cursing, he wondered why he had chosen the body of a sparrow when there were so many more suitable options.

He could barely glimpse the outline of Sheldon, bent over, dragging the sack along at snail pace. Stupid bastard, he'll kill himself trying to get rid of that thing, he clucked.

Stretching his wings, he hopped lightly to the next available branch. He'd found that moving along that way gave him more cover from the nighttime predators that patrolled the sky. As incredibly slow as the boy was going beneath him, it was working well so far.

There was a small lake near the area. Sparky figured that was where the boy would deposit the body next. It would definitely be harder to find, but any good tracking dog could easily trail it to the spot—as he was literally dragging it along the ground.

You're certainly not the sharpest tool in the shed, he thought, shaking his head as he watched him.

Something swooped down from behind. He dodged it at the last minute, a sharp talon barely missing his head. Spinning around, he confronted a pair of gleaming yellow eyes, honed in on him, preparing for the kill.

Damn it all! This was the reason why small things like sparrows and mice stayed inside nests and holes at night.

His flying skills had come along well, but he was certain the owl's would be better in the end. In order to survive he would need to do something very unsparrow like. Without further hesitation, he dove down towards the ground, staying as close as he could to the tree. The owl spun in after him, covering the distance quickly, its sharp beak open and ready.

Reaching out, it grasped his tail feather, spinning him around, sending him into a spiraling free fall. In pure desperation he flapped his wings wildly until he plopped unceremoniously on the forest ground.

The owl on his tail, he surveyed the ground desperately, finding a rotting log with a hole small enough for a sparrow to squeeze into. Shoving himself in, he prayed he could go deep enough to escape the thing's beak.

The log jolted and rolled as the owl attacked it. It jammed its beak into the soft rotting wood and tore pieces out, flinging them aside. Indignant rage pulsed through the little sparrow as he lay helpless in the dark hole. He silently swore he would track the thing down when he changed forms and give it a most unfortunate death. Then, all was still.

There was only one opening—currently he had his back to it. He pressed himself with all his might against the side, bending his tail feathers, until he was able to turn fully around to face the opening.

A yellow eye stared into the hole at him.

You will never succeed, the thing projected, sending an eerie chill through Sparky's body.

Who are you?

I think you know.

You shouldn't be here, you should be—

In hell?

Yes, that's where you belong. You can't be here, it's against spirit law. How did you find him?

Ah, yes, the same law that Aria has broken by sending us away before the transition.  You warned her then, didn't you? Now here I am.

The owl stepped back a few paces. You must love her to have followed her all this way. He clicked his beak, his eyes glimmering.  He brought his wing to his heart, feigning he was reciting a poem. Love. Such a powerful weapon. So deadly when used to your advantage.

He leaped forward, his beak snapping at the hole where Sparky hid. You should have stopped her. You know as well as I do, there are serious consequences when one chooses to play with the past.

He rested a large talon on the little log, giving it a sudden shake. You see—I have just informed our boy,Sheldon that you and the two little dogs know all about him and what he's done, and that you will find a way to stop him.

He scraped a sharp nail across the top of the log, digging deep into the rotted wood. He didn't believe me at first, it took some convincing. But now that he is on board, things are going to get really—exciting.

He drove his beak with force into the wood, punching through it, barely missing the little bird inside. And you know what the killing part is? Now he knows he's been discovered! Don't you see Bastion? You've sped it up! You've made it worse, much worse!

He jabbed his beak once again in the log, and pushed hard with his talon, cracking it into two.

Hello everybody! Thanks so much for taking the time to read Winter Rose! Please vote if you like it!

Now that both of Sheldon's spirit sides from the future are here, (good and bad) there is sure to be a battle of good verses evil. Maybe Winnie and Bastion should have left the past alone...it seems like they may be making it worse than it was. Anyway, please let me know if there is anything that doesn't make sense as this is the first draft of a complicated story and I may have missed something! :) Thanks!