COULD IT BE? A SEQUEL? LET THE SAGA CONTINUE!

Mark

Mark Jefferson shifted grudgingly on his rough cot, missing the soft cushions of his couch back home. The fact that that joke of a security guard was the one to discover him just served to add insult to injury. Red bled into his vision whenever he thought about the prick. It dissipated, however, when his mind strayed to his dream subject.

Closing his eyes, Mark wondered if the unfamiliar girl would visit his dreams again tonight. Solitary confinement was so much more bearable when he knew she would be there for him in his dreams.

"Rio," Mark breathed her name, feeling his muscles loosen as he fell into a deep slumber.

"Mark," Rio greeted him, moving forward and wrapping her arms around him. She was picturesque in every meaning of the word. Her long, ebony hair was pulled back into a thick braid and she was wearing a white, shift dress with lace sleeves. Her silver eyes looked at him and he felt as if she could understand him in a way that no one could. "I've missed you."

"I wish you were real. If I had you, I never would have gotten myself into this mess," Mark reasoned, brushing some stray hairs away from her pale face and behind her ears. He would kill for a camera right now.

Rio didn't reply, she just started giggling, burying her face into his chest. He was wearing his usually white oxford and jeans- his teaching attire from before he got arrested.

"You kill me, Mark," Rio replied breezily. "Come, let's go for a walk."

The scenery around him began to come into focus. He was standing in front of Blackwell Academy. Faceless students milled around the schoolyard. Rio pulled away and began leading him towards the road by hand. He marveled at how soft Rio's hands were in his own. There were small callouses on her fingertips; but her palms were smooth.

Rio's eyes flickered among the vehicles that whirred past in the street. Loose strands of her hair were whipping around in a frenzy. Mark felt his gut sink lower as he realized the dream was coming to an end.

"Save me, Mark," Rio whispered, stepping out in front of a bus. Mark cried out in agony, her hand slipping loose from his grip as of she were as tangible as the wind. He fell to his knees as the sound of students screaming and the bus's brakes squealing filled his ears. Fresh tears rolled down his cheeks and he smelled Rio's blood on the air.

Mark jolted up- a cold layer of sweat covering his skin. The dream felt so real. Mark ran to the door of his cell and began banging against the door furiously in a sudden fit of desperation. Finally, someone came to inquire about the ruckus.

"Step back from the door, creep," the woman ordered. The door opened up and Mark recognized McKellan- one of the night guards of the prison. "What's all the fuss?"

"I need out of here! Rio needs me!" Mark argued, coming off like a raving lunatic and not caring. Rio was real- she had to be- and she needed him.

"Back off," McKellan ordered, reaching for her sidearm. Mark charged forward anyway and the guard lifted her gun, firing it. A blinding white light filled his vision and Mark blinked away the white spots. McKellan was still standing- strangely still. Her gun was pointed at his chest and Mark saw a small projectile between the barrel and him.

The bullet, he realized, stepping aside. He felt strange, string-like entities pulling at his fingers and wondered if it was possible that he stopped time. He'd seen Rio do it in his dreams, of course. She could make birds stop mid air and photograph them as if it were nothing; but that wasn't reality. But this is.

Something about using the gift felt like slipping back into his skin. It was very similar to photography- creating frozen moments of time.

Mark grabbed the gun with one hand, using the other to hold the strings. If he could do this again, he could very well break out of the prison. A smile broke out across his face and he pistol whipped McKellan as time resumed. The hit was hard enough that it sent the blonde officer tumbling to the floor unconscious. He added a kick to the stomach just as a treat for himself.

I wonder what else I can do.

Rain fell down upon Max and she recoiled in horror from the lighthouse as its top half began to fall towards her.

"No!" Max cried out in shock. Looking around, she realized that she was just in class. Mr. Jefferson's replacement should be walking in the door any minute to start one of the lectures that the school board had created to replace Jefferson's curriculum. Max let out a breath and began organizing her notes on her desk- only stopping when she heard a familiar voice at the front of the room.

"It's such a brilliant change to see you all in your desks and not squawking gossip amongst yourselves," the male voice praised. Max mentally whispered a prayer and looked up. With dark eyes behind a pair of two tone glasses and his renowned goatee, there was no doubting who the man at the front of the room was.

"Mr. Jefferson," Max breathed his name in surprise. She glanced around at her classmates, expecting similar reactions from the lot. No one seemed affected in the slightest by the return of their professor.

"Yes, Max?" Mark prompted, staring at her expectantly. She felt the color drain from her face and faked an excuse about not feeling well. "Very well. You do look as if you might start vomiting and I don't think the color would look well on these floors."

"Thank you," Max muttered, gathering her things and bustling out of the room. She hurried down the hall and into the bathroom, sealing herself away in one of the stalls. Max dialed Chloe's number, certain that the blue haired punk would be able to help her figure out what was going on.

"Yo, Maximillion. Aren't you supposed to be in class or sumthin'?" Chloe asked over the sound of her truck's engine.

"Um, yea, I am. Look, Chloe, you remember what happened last month, right?" Max replied, chewing on her lip.

"Uh, yea! You saved me from that mental patient Prescott, remember? He got taken down for kidnapping Kate and all sorts of bad shit. Like killing- well, you know," Chloe answered, sounding a little put off by Max's question. "Why is this coming up anyway?"

"Mark Jefferson just came into my photography class and-"

"Since when do you call him Mark?" Chloe interrupted. "And why do you sound surprised? He's been teaching your class basically all semester."

Max felt her chest tightening in a panic-fueled vice. It grew harder for Max to breathe as her vision blurred around the edges. None of this was right. Everything was fucked up.

"Max? Hello? Are you alright, short stop?" Chloe asked, her own voice growing uneasy. Max collapsed to her knees.

It was raining- a sensation Max was getting sick of very quickly. She forced her way through the sheets of grey rain. The path beneath her feet was muddy- the slick substance slipping with each step she took. She slipped, falling onto the ground and scraping her knees against some sticks. Lifting herself back onto her feet, Max noticed someone further up the path.

"Wait! Hold on!" Max called out. She stumbled forward, feeling as if the path were growing longer with every step. The silhouette overhead paused and then reached out towards Max, beckoning her closer. Max rushed up the path but was too slow as the figure disappeared.

Breaking out at the top of the cliff, Max felt her chest heave with each breath. Her eyes searched frantically until they landed on the back of a woman's head. She was sitting on the old bench, staring out at the skyline and not acknowledging Max's approach. Max thought she recognized her from somewhere.

"Lex?" Max asked, coming around the side of the bench. It certainly looked like Lex- although there was something off about her nose and her chin wasn't quite as thin. The woman's long, black hair fell like a waterfall of inky behind her and her eyes weren't golden as Lex's were. "Rio?"

"Hi Max," Rio greeted, turning and smiling at the brunette. Tears were running down her cheeks in a seemingly never-ending flow. Her expression seemed to be a mix of sorrow and relief. "I've made a real mess out of things, haven't I Max?"

"What do you mean?" Max asked, coming down to sit on the bench beside her lost friend. She couldn't believe Rio was actually here right now. It had been a month since Rio gave her life for Arcadia Bay- and for Chloe.

"Winter is coming, Max. I don't think I can stop it- not this time," Rio informed her, ringing her hands nervously. "I didn't mean to give it to him, Max. You have to believe me. If I could come back on my own, I would. I would give anything to be there with you right now."

"Is this about Jefferson?" Max inquired, realizing what Rio was saying bit by bit.

"The power had to go somewhere, Max. Your power got him in prison- mine got him back out," Rio admitted, looking back out at the skyline. Max followed her gaze. Gigantic, towering clouds of grey were looming on the horizon and the bay was beginning to freeze.

"You have to find me, Max. Take Le-" Rio was cut off as blood blossomed from her forehead and began running down her face in streams of red. Her skin drained of all color and then began to tinge grey. Rio's eyes grew cloudy and unfocused. Her mouth hung open and the tears stopped falling from her eyes. Max realized in horror that Rio was dead all over again.

Max jolted up, realizing that she was on a bathroom floor. Chloe was bent at the knee in front of her, running her hands over Max's face. Max felt sweaty and cold.

"You had me worried, you son of a bitch," Chloe chastised her, pulling Max against her. Max clutched desperately at the back of Chloe's shirt. Chloe was warm and comforting but Max couldn't shake the vision of Rio in her mind. It had been so long since she'd last seen those deep, silver eyes. She remembered the feel of the storm- rain splattering against her cheeks so thick she almost choked on it. She thought Rio was leaving to kill Chloe, but she wasn't.

Max sometimes wondered if, given the choice, she would have let Rio die in Chloe's place.

"Are you alright, Max?" David Madsen asked, kneeling next to her. His eyes were full of concern. Max felt guilty. She'd worried everyone.

"I'm fine," Max lied, pulling away from Chloe. She wiped her face clean with the soft palms of her hands. Her mind briefly returned to the feeling of Rio's calloused fingertips scraping across her cheek. A lump formed in her throat and she forced it down. Getting to her feet, Max made her way out of the bathroom- insisting that she was fine all the way. She wiped frustrated tears from her eyes. There was no time for mourning a girl she never knew. No time for-

"Max?" a lilting voice piped up just before Max walked into the source. Max's head whipped to the side and she looked up to see Rio standing there. Her hair was wrapped into a thick side braid that fell in front of her right shoulder. She was clutching a portfolio to her chest and her D3200 was hanging from a leather strap around her neck. She looked almost bored with the scene. Max squinted at her, trying to figure out how the timeline got so distorted.

Rio looked every bit as if she'd stepped out of a muted photograph. Her face was unblemished save for a small, white scar on her jaw.

"Rio? What are you doing here?" Max asked, confused by the situation. Her mind was reeling with this strange reality where Jefferson was still a teacher and Rio was alive and at Blackwell Academy.

"Mark sent me to make sure you were still breathing. Class is over," Rio informed Max, looking apathetic towards her task. She said Mark's name casually, but Max noticed a small twitch in Rio's features. "You left your things in the classroom."

Rio held an unzipped backpack out towards Max that was stuffed full with her journals. Her other hand held Max's camera. Max hesitated before finally reaching out and taking the items out of Rio's hands. She noticed several faint scars on the girl's wrists and her stomach twisted. What was Rio going through that caused her to make marks that fresh?

Max could still remember seeing Mark knelt before Rio, kissing her and making Rio's face flush. What was he doing to her now, now that he'd seemingly gotten away with his crimes?

"Are you okay?" Max asked, concerned for Rio's wellfare. Rio stepped back and her eyebrows furrowed.

"I'm not the one who ditched out of class. I need to go," Rio answered, turning and walking back towards the hall that led to Jefferson's classroom. Max noticed Jefferson leave his classroom at the end of the hall and meet with Rio. He was smiling as if he'd won the lottery. The way he stood so close to Rio made Max's chest tighten. She lifted her camera and took a picture.

And the plot thickens... This story is going to get fairly darker than Butterfly Effect, er go the M rating still being in effect. Please let me know of any requests you have for Butterfly Effect related shorts or any other stories. I'm starting a contest of sorts. If you want, message me with an idea for a character that you would like to see in the Butterfly Effect/Life Is Strange universe.