A/N: Welcome, welcome. So, here I am with the story I promised. I only hope that I won't disappoint you. This is slightly alternate universe and it was inspired by Tim Burton's film. In all honesty, I haven't watched the series since I didn't even exist back then and I can't find the show here in my country anyway. Nevertheless, I'll try and keep Barnabas in character as much as possible. This going to be BC/OC so, if that bothers you, turn away now. Constructive criticism is always welcome, but no flames please. If you do not like it then please don't read it.

Now on with the story!

Disclaimer: I do not own Dark Shadows or any of its characters. I only own my OC.

Immortal Souls

Chapter 1

Collinsport, Maine, 1990

Widows Hill

The sun was burning and the cool breeze did nothing to minimize the warmth of the summer. The forest that expanded behind the cliff was large and thick and someone would think that nothing could disrupt its quietness. A lonely, hooded figure stood near the edge of the hill and if someone looked close enough they would see locks of light brown hair peeking from the hood of the woman's cape, blowing softly with the wind. A sad melody was hummed from her lips and her arms were lying limply by her sides. Long elegant fingers were visible and a large emerald ring rested around the middle finger of her right hand.

Her right hand suddenly flexed when all of a sudden loud footsteps echoed behind her, from the forest. The form that approached could have been easily mistaken for a human if it hadn't been for the alarming speed in which he was approaching. A heavy cloak, parallel to the woman's, was wrapped around him and he had his hood firmly drawn over his head, concealing his features from the bright light.

His breaths were coming out in harsh pants as he ran and the woman turned her head slightly to the right. She looked over her shoulder at the man and he suddenly stopped dead in his tracks. Calmly, she turned her head back around and gazed at the horizon in front of her as she slowly lifted her right hand. With grace, she carefully removed the golden ring and fisted her fingers around it before she outstretched her hand towards the edge of the cliff.

The man behind her made to step forward, but the woman's voice made him pause.

"Stay where you are, Barnabas. Please." She said quietly and the man swallowed thickly. She opened her hand and gazed at the ring in her palm before she slowly turned her hand, letting the ring fall from her skin and into the sea beneath them.

"No." The man spoke gruffly and the woman took a step back from the cliff.

"What do you fear?" she asked him and encouraged, he took a few steps closer to her.

"You know. What are you doing here?" he asked her as he gazed at her back.

"You know what." She answered him as she suddenly turned and fixed her intense, almost ethereal blue eyes upon his dark figure, "I can't live like this anymore." She whispered as she looked at him but not really. Her eyes were staring through him, like he was a specter.

"You knew the consequences. You-…I thought you realized what you were asking of me. Do not put this weight upon my back. I thought you understood." He said and the woman shook her head, her hood falling slightly back as she did so.

"You think that my only problem is our nature?" she asked him and he frowned, his dark eyes narrowed in confusion.

"What is your problem, my dear?" he asked her quietly as she slowly raised her hands and drew back the cloak covering her.

The man's eyes widened at her action and wildness flashed in his dark orbs.

"You are my problem. Like you were her problem." The woman winced as the bright sunlight came in contact with her pale white flesh.

"My love." He started softly.

"You think I do not see the changes in you. As the years pass you seem like you did when I first met you. This world is our problem, Barnabas. The world changes and so do you. The changes dazzle you. Your own wealth dazzles you and you don't even realize it. But I don't. Not anymore." She shook her head as she brought her hands to the fastenings of her cloak, "I thought this…existence would make me forget my past life. The unfairness of what was brought upon me, but I was wrong. I was considering myself sane back then. But not anymore. I still see things and she won't leave me alone."

"It's all in your head, my dear. Everything. My feelings towards you have not been altered." The man said without a trace of dishonesty, but the woman only smiled sadly.

"You have changed."

"I have not. Please-…" he started desperately as she started walking backwards towards the edge while removing the heavy cloak from around her figure.

"Be safe." She murmured as the cloak fell from her body leaving her bare to the sizzling, destructive warmth of the sun, "Be kind." She whispered before she opened her hands and started falling backwards and away from his reach.

The man's pale face twisted in agony as he sprung forward in a vain effort to catch the woman. He managed to grasp her hand, but a cry of anguish left his mouth when his hand felt like it was sizzling with fire. He reflexively let go of the hot hand and watched with wide horrified eyes as the woman he loved dived for the sea, her body slowly disintegrating in the bright sunlight.

"Victoria!" he cried loudly before he followed after her, jumping off the cliff and towards the crushing waves.

His body fell into the ocean and he opened his dark eyes, trying to find any trace of her. His hands pushed through the water until a shiny glimmer caught his eye. He swam towards it and he closed his hand around the object, taking sand and rocks with it. He surfaced and with inhuman speed swam towards the shore and away from the sunlight. He pressed his back against the rocks behind him and closed his eyes briefly while taking deep breaths. His heavy cloak and clothing clung to his body and despite the coldness of the waters he seemed unaffected. His black hair was sticking to his forehead in disarray and his eyes were mere slits of despair.

He slowly brought his clenched hand up and opened it. His silent heart broke inside his chest at the sight of the ring. It no longer had an owner and its value was of no worth. Just like his dead heart.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Boston, 2000

"Abigail Aston, please?" A feminine voice called and the woman already settled in her seat looked up with a frown.

"Um, yes?" she answered and the other woman approached her with a scowl.

"Your bag, Miss Aston." The woman muttered and Abigail quickly stood up.

"Oh my..." she murmured as she took her handbag from the other woman, "I must have forgotten it-…"

"In my seat." The woman who was at least ten years older than Abigail snapped rudely.

"I apologize. I had confused the seats and I forgot it there." Abigail replied as she placed her bag on her seat and forced an apologetic smile on her face.

"Obviously. I hope you didn't mind that I went through your things. I had to find the owner." The woman sniffed obnoxiously before she turned and walked back to her seat.

"Of course." Abigail muttered as she sat down and picked up her back. She went through her things and found them all in order. She breathed a sigh of relief before she took out a wrinkled letter.

The train shifted and slowly started moving away from North Station, propelling her forward a little bit. She shifted in the seat until she was resting back before she looked at the letter.

Ruth Simpson, Collinsport, Maine.

Abigail looked away from the envelope and bit her lip, still considering if it was the right choice. Not that she had many choices, of course. It was either that or…nothing really.

Abigail Aston was twenty seven years old, an artist and she would have been a homeless woman if she hadn't applied for the position. What was the position? Housekeeper to the famous Collinwood mansion. One would wonder how she ended up accepting the position. It was mainly her artistic hunger among… other reasons of less dignified nature.

Well, first of all she had no other option and she was in dire need of money. And secondly, she had heard so much about that place and she considered it a masterpiece. It was so severe and impressive and simply beautiful to look. Collinwood mansion was one of the oldest in Maine and she was curious to know how it really looked from the inside. Images of the estate and the house itself were flourishing, but she had never seen a photograph of the owner. Not a single one.

Accepting the offer of just living in that place was an opportunity she couldn't pass up. The salary was good and at the moment that was all she needed.

The moving around was a part of her life anyway. It had always been since she had grown up in foster homes. She had never met her family and that had always been a thorn deep inside her, clawing at her. Stability had never been a part of her life and perhaps that was the reason why she became an artist. Art had helped her overcome her depression and it had opened her eyes in a new world. A world where anything was possible as long as you could dream it up and put it down on canvas.

Abigail was a painter. Not a well known one, mainly because she didn't have a lot of connections. She had shown her work in a few exhibits, but nothing too great. She loved her art, but couldn't live on it.

She had done many different jobs, but they hadn't lasted long. Secretary, baby-sitter, clerk, waitress. So, being a housekeeper was not much of a challenge for her. Or so she thought…

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

She walked out of the bus and picked up her suitcase before she started walking towards the Collinsport Inn. Her light gray eyes took in her surroundings and a small smile touched her lips when she realized that the town held its traditional air. It was like she had stepped into a different era.

As she walked inside the inn she was surrounded by the burning smell of wood and homemade bread. The man behind the counter looked up as she entered and smiled at her.

"Good evening. May I help you?" He questioned and Abigail put down her suitcase before she smiled back.

"Hello. Um…A reservation was made for me under the name of…Collins?" she asked hopefully and the man paused.

His eyes narrowed slightly before he looked down at his book.

"Barnabas Collins?" The man clarified and she hesitated.

"I think so." She nodded and the man eyed her oddly.

"I take it you're the new housekeeper of Collinwood?" he questioned and she almost sighed out loud.

Small towns.

"I am." Abigail nodded and the man cleared his throat before he handed her a key.

"Room 10. Your name's Aston, correct?" he asked as she took the key from him. Her hand slightly clammy.

"Hmm."

"Well, have a good night then. Your bill has already been paid by Mr. Collins." The inn keeper said and Abigail smiled at him before she leaned down to pick up her things.

"Is Collinwood very far?" she asked curiously as she paused and the man shook his head.

"Not very far. I'll arrange for a car to take you there tomorrow morning."

"Thank you. Goodnight." She called before she climbed up the stairs to her room.

End of chapter 1

Author's note: Thank you for reading. So, did you like it, hate it? Should I post more?

Please review and let me know.

Xxx Lina :)