A/N: My very very very first Brittana fic. Guys, don't worry, there is a continuation for this. I started this about a few weeks ago. I know, some of you guys are getting mad at me for not updating TWTTCEH. Please forgive me, I've been doing my best. Now, please remember, this is my first Brittana fic, and my first HORROR/SEEKING/ETC. fic. I have a bad feeling on one of Santana's names (you'll know why later). So please enjoy, and tell me if I did well in the reviews! :)
SUPERNATURAL FEELINGS
CHAPTER ONE
Santana bade farewell to her abuela's casket, and walked away sadly. Her mother wanted to stay for a while longer, so she took herself home.
As she went further and further away from the cemetery, she thought of the love her abuela always gave her. She wiped a few stray tears on her face as she kept driving.
The sky drew darker, and by this time she turned her radio on and plugged in her iPod, shuffling the songs she had in there.
She drove through the usual route home : the street filled with houses that housed the filthy rich of Lima, the street with the nice simple homes, and the dark lonely street which no one really cared about.
There were stories about that street. A story about various ghosts appearing to people as they walked through or drives through.
But Santana always passed through that route, and nothing happened. Plus, she never believed in ghosts. Ever.
As she sang Amy Winehouse's Back to Black to the top of her lungs, she suddenly saw a pale lady with dark reddish-bluish circles under her eyes right infront of her car.
"OH MY GOD!" Santana screamed. She then tried her best to stop the car as it drifted on the asphalt. Her car then came into a stop as the next song in her iPod played.
She gasped for air and checked if her heart was still beating. "Nope, that was just an illusion. That was just an illusion." She reassured herself.
She took a look through her side mirror, and her window, and suddenly that lady wasn't there.
She then made sure her door was locked, and as she turned around, she screamed and saw that same lady again. Her eyes were red, and white. Dripping from her mouth was something red— blood. She looked like she had been dead for a hundred years, her many bones showing, some muscles revealed, and decomposed skin. Her hair was dipped in blood, and was a mix of white, and dead hair (or what seemed to be white). Basically, she scared the shit out of Santana.
She went closer and closer to Santana, and Santana tried kicking the lady away, and felt the firmness of what a real body would possess. Santana kept screaming, even more horrified than before.
And suddenly the lady disappeared.
Santana was now crying out of horror. Her throat felt sore from screaming her heart out.
And then when she saw her window, there were handprints and writings. In red. Santana didn't know if it was possible to scare her even more, but she was sure was scared shitless.
It read :
"You may find me again, but don't even try looking."
And drops of blood helplessly slid over the windshield.
Santana was not sure of what just happened. To her, it happened all too fast.
Was this all true? Or just one big dream?
The Cheerios were out on the football field, practicing their routine for Nationals, hoping that they would win the trophy again. Quinn wasn't available for the competition, so Santana was chosen to substitute.
At the ending part of their routine, they needed to form a pyramid, and Santana was truly happy about not carrying anyone this time, because she was at the top.
But then she saw a woman, sitting on the bleachers, in a Cheerios uniform, but with the same face of the lady she saw days ago.
Santana screamed and fell of the pyramid.
Luckily, Puckerman, one of the football players, caught her.
"Hey there, Latina chick." He greeted Santana.
"Get off me, SLUT." She replied, and Puck followed her. As she stood up, Puckerman went back to jogging with the team.
"Is that what you call a NATIONALS performance!? I don't think so! The competition is already this SATURDAY! GET YOUR ASSES BACK THERE." Coach Sylvester screamed at her megaphone.
As Santana went back to the formation, Coach Sylvester came in with the golf cart and said to her "If you don't put your A game, I swear you will be placed at the BOTTOM of the pyramid! Understand Tweedle Fake Boobies?". Santana nodded in reply.
Santana then took a look back at the bleachers, and the lady wasn't there anymore.
"Looks like I'll be at the top of the pyramid, Lopez." A Cheerio told her. "Oh shut up bitch." Santana said in reply.
The lady wasn't there. She didn't appear again.
Whats wrong? What was going on!?
Her phone vibrated, so Santana checked it.
It was that lady, again.
Santana screamed and her phone fell.
This time it was an extreme close up of that lady, but even bloodier, and this time she had no eyes, and blood was dripping through her empty sockets.
She was trembling, and heaving for air. She sat down below her open locker. Students passing by saw her, and noticed her.
"Sad chick, what you doing on the floor?" Puckerman asked her.
Santana regained slight consciousness, and told him "I'm crazy, right?". "If you mean hot, nicely assed, and very good smelling, yes you are crazy—" "I'm serious, bastard!" Santana retorted.
"Fine, chill! I dunno, but you've been screaming and acting as if you were, possessed or somethin'. But don't worry cray-cray chick, Puckerman's love sessions make 'em all better..." Puckerman replied.
"I-I just don't understand, Quinn! I mean, like, she's EVERYWHERE! It's freaking me out so much!" Santana explained to Quinn, who kept filing her nails.
"Well J. Lo, I think you have to go under something called a bible study. Go to my place, Sunday. Nine in the morning." Quinn replied, zipping a pouch and placing it in her bag. She tightened her ponytail, and waved at the school's quarter back Finn Hudson.
"So, why aren't you available for Nationals this Saturday?" Santana curiously asked. "I have important matters to deal with..."
"And are you sure I'll be able to handle that bible study? I might go all Lima Heights if its boring. Or I'll do a grand exit..." Santana said. "Let's just see Santana..." Quinn replied. They held hands like they were bestfriends in the hallway.
"How are you and Finn?" Santana asked out of the blue. "Well, we aren't the IT couple of the school, but I'll be making sure that happens... And, he's hot anyway. The leading girl always gets the top guy..." Quinn said with a smirk.
"I've been hearing things about you and Puck. Why waste time on such a weirdo?" Quinn said. "Uhm, Puck has been the one coming to me. He's being his typical jack-ass Puckerman mode!" Santana replied. The two giggled and went to their classes.
She couldn't smell her. She couldn't find her. She got impatient. Where was she?
Her dress was dragged on the road, smelling of blood and rotting cadavers. The moon rose, and glinted brightly.
All cars were unfamiliar at this point. But that one girl was the one she deemed to be hers.
She blinked twice and she was in a room. She saw a lonely bed, a few cabinets, a dresser, a screen, and other things she couldn't identify.
She stood, and waited.
"I'm home mama!" Santana said once she locked the door.
"Santana! Oh, sit down, comer un poco de comida!" Her mom said.
"I don't feel like eating now mama... Coach made our bodies feel like it was slapped a billion times. I'll just take a shower..." Santana said. "Okay baby."
Her scent turned stronger. Her legs felt weaker. This was her. The one that had gone missing for more than a few centuries.
This was Maria Eugenia Santayana Margherita La Cruz.
Santana kept looking at her shoes as she opened and closed her door. It was now muddy, and she planned to have it cleaned. She wiped some mud off her skirt, and when she looked up, a lady pounded her against the door.
It was that lady.
"OH MY GO—" Her mouth was immediately covered.
"Shh..." The lady said. Santana observed she smelled and looked cleaner. She looked more, pleasant.
She felt their breaths touch.
"What do you want from me?" Santana said.
"Thee does not remember me?" The lady asked.
"I definetly remeber you! How could I not forget you! You scared the crap out of me on the road, on my phone, in school— YOU'RE A GHOST, AND WHAT DO YOU WANT?" Santana screamed.
"You really don't remember me?" The lady said, her voice sounding sweet and innocent, her eyes turning a baby blue color.
Santana tried to keep herself composed.
"Who are you?" Santana asked her.
"Brianna Miranda Susanne Dianne Lockfort, does thee not remember? Thou needs to rectify thy thoughts." The lady with a horribly long name said.
"Can you speak current English? Because I did not understand any of that." Santana said.
"I shall attempt of doing so." The lady said.
She then sat on Santana's bed. She tried to get used to the feeling of it.
"I must say, this is a rather comfortable resting quarter you have..." She said. "Uhm, its called a bed. And no, that is the worst bed I have had, and I am having it replaced by Sunday afternoon." Santana said.
"A, bed? What is a bed?" The lady asked.
"What you are sitting on right now is a BED." Santana said.
"And what is your name?" Santana asked.
"Oh, it's Brianna Miran—"
"Shorter name." Santana asked.
"Shorter name? Why we have no shorter names, Maria Eugenia Santayana Margherita La Cr—"
"What did you just call me?" Santana asked.
"Santayana, you se—"
"Who the hell is Santayana!? My name is Santana Lopez! I am not Santayana blah blah blah!" Santana screamed.
The lady was silent.
"I'll just call you Brittany." Santana said as she took off her ponytail, leaving her lush black hair resting on her shoulders.
"Britta-what?" Brittany asked.
"BRIT-TA-NY." Santana exaggerated.
"Brittany? That seems like quite the unusual name one may have..." Brittany said.
Santana took off her shoes and placed them beside her hamper.
She could not hold on longer. Santayana was right infront of her. Her scent was too strong.
Santana was then pounded on her bed, her chest being groped by a warm hand, her lips almost being touched by Brittany.
"OH MY GOSH, GET OFF ME!" Santana screamed. "Please Santayana! Just allow me to—" "I AM SANTANA, AND GET OFF!" Santana screamed.
"You really do not remember me? Thee who showed affection for me does not recall what we had?" Brittany said.
"Uhm, what 'affection' are you talking about? And yes, I never showed you any!" Santana said.
Suddenly, a levitating frame assembled itself ontop of Brittany's hand, and landed on it.
"Does thee still not remember?" Brittany asked, and gave the frame to her.
Santana observed the picture. It was Brittany and a Spanish looking lady. It looked like they were talking on a bench, like bestfriends. But the Spanish lady reminded her a lot of herself. Santana released her grasp on the frame, almost making it break on the floor.
"Now does thee allow the past to dwell in the current times?" Brittany asked, and crushed the frame in her hands, letting it disintigrate into sparkling dust.
"H-how is that me?" Santana stuttered.
Brittany shrugged.
"Santayana, or who thee calls thyself Santana, you are not alive. You are dead! You have been living your past in the modern times! Do you not see the resemblance?" Brittany exclaimed.
Santana was in shock.
Brittany did not want to explain what she thought she needed to explain, but it was needed.
"Okay, let us spot the resemblances..." Brittany started.
She made a picture float on her hand.
"You and this girl called 'Quinn Fabray'. You two seem to be bestfriends. But you are feeling a little, let us say, more than friends about her, right?" Brittany asked Santana.
"Uhh, how do you know?" Santana asked in disbelief.
"Look at the resemblance..." Brittany said, and swiped the picture. It revealed a portrait of her and Santayana.
"This was us! We were frolicking in the parks of Bath, back in London!" Brittany said. Santana couldn't believe her eyes.
"And your present mummy..." Brittany said, and swiped again. It revealed a picture of Santana and her mom.
"Now your past mummy..." Brittany said, and swiped. A lady who slightly resembled her mother was shown.
"H-how?" Santana asked.
"Wait, this Puckerman boy..." Brittany said. As if in cue, the picture changed into a scene of Puckerman during football.
"And now here is Lord Peregrine Winston." Brittany said, and swiped. It revealed a portrait of this Peregrine playing a game of lacrosse.
"See Santana. Your life is just one big so called 'replay' of your past life! You're just stuck in this cycle that just keeps repeating itself!" Brittany exclaimed.
Santana fainted on her bed.
"Santana? Santana your food is getting cold!" Mrs. Lopez said.
"Santana bebe, come to your mama!" She called out.
She felt that something was wrong.
She ran to Santana's room, and saw an unconscious Santana.
She quickly tried to wake her up. Nothing happened.
"SANTANA? SANTANA!" Mrs. Lopez screamed.
Santana saw herself, getting ready. Her gown was a dark magenta, full of roses and ribbons.
"Milady Santayana, Lady Brianna has arrived." A butler said.
"Where is she?" Santayana said as she turned around gracefully.
Santana kept watching. She felt some sort of bond between her and Santayana, or her in a past life.
"Milady, she is at the courtyard." The butler replied.
"Ready some food and drink. We shall eat there..." Santayana said. The butler acknowledged, and quickly fled to the castle's kitchen.
Santana watched her moves. She couldn't believe her eyes. Her, in a past life, being so graceful. While her now, she was the high bitch in charge of McKinley.
Santayana sprayed some perfume on her neck, and gracefully went to the courtyard.
Santana crept carefully behind her. She saw that Santayana was wearing magenta colored heels. "Those are killer heels." Santana thought.
As the two same people went out to the courtyard, Santana spotted a lady with a beautiful cyan blue gown. She peacefully sat on a bench, watching birds bathe in the bird bath. Her hair glowed lile gold in the sunlight, and her eyes were glimmering as well.
"Brianna!" Santayana called out.
"Oh! Santayana!" Brianna (or Brittany in Santana's thoughts) said and ran to her. They hugged immediately.
Santana opened her eyes, and her head throbbed greatly.
"Now do you see?" Brittany asked.
"So, I am Santayana?" Santana asked.
"Yes you are..." Brittany confirmed.
A/N: I know, her name sucks. Brittany's name sucks too. My old English speaking skills are bad (wishing I was Shakespeare, without all the making of words). So please review! ^_^
