Author's Note: Hello! I've had this idea in my head for a while and this isn't going to be a one-shot, it'll be an on-going story. While I am still continuing "Twisted Affection" and as an actual fact this was supposed to be in it, however the Robbie-like plot bunny kept on beating me into submission with a steel pipe. Anyways, I hope you enjoy. Please review. xxx


It was miserable.

The rain pelted down onto the windows of the apartment. The thunder gave out a small murmur before bellowing into a harsh hiss, the lightening that accompanied it illuminated the dark room for a brief second with a flash of light. The apartment itself was nothing to boast about. Plain white walls adorned by a few shelves containing books of Edgar Allen Poe's dark poetry, an old worn-down school book of Macbeth that should have been returned long ago. A beige couch sat in the middle of the room, before it decent TV and a red woolly rug underneath a glass coffee table. Magazines were scattered across the transparent surface as a rather large coffee ring stained marred its appearance.

Behind the door some shuffling could be heard. "Fuck!" Heather hissed, rummaging through her handbag as her wet hair clung to her face. After finding the keys and unlocking the door, she flicked on the light switch, letting the artificial light flood the room. She dropped her keys into the bowl nonchalantly and placed her bag on the couch. She shrugged off her drenched hoodie and threw it into the closet. She sighed as she ran her hand through her matted hair; she was getting extremely tired of stocking shelves and sitting on her ass for most of the day. Not to mention those annoying customers who think they know it all.

'The customer always knows best'. Heather snorted, "My ass!" She, regretfully, recalled the events that occurred earlier this evening.

She sat there behind the counter, exasperated as she held out the receipt to the old lady. "I'm sorry but the date has expired," Heather calmly stated, a jaded expression on her face.

The small, frail lady seethed in rage, her little frame shaking. "But the law says that it's my right to get either a refund within thirty days!"

"It's not," Heather gritted her teeth; they've been having the same argument for the past fifteen minutes. Any of the others who were waiting in queue behind her had moved on to another till. "The amount of days that are valid for returning an item is written on the receipt." She waved the flimsy piece of paper in the air, much to the old woman's annoyance.

"But the shop down the road lets you return an item within thirty days!"

"But that's their policy!" Heather raised her hands. "The policy here says that you have only twenty-eight days! I can't give you a refund because this has been expired since yesterday!"

"Is there a problem?"

Heather shrank away on her seat as her boss hovered over her.

"Your employee here has been very rude."

Heather's eyes widened. "No, I haven't!" she protested. But it didn't matter, she was forced to apologise to that miserable hag and got a lecture from that prick.

She thought life would be much easier after what happened three years ago. For God's sake; she battled through split-headed dogs, zombie nurses, rotating bladed freaks, a monstrous version of herself and, hell, fought God itself. Just like her father did twenty years ago. But still, dealing with people was as just as a pain in the ass as killing one of those fat guys that always blocked the one door that she needed to get through.

After the funeral, Douglas took care of her and acted as her legal guardian since she had no other family members. She went back to school, but only towards Christmas; she was still too raw after everything she went through. Douglas explained to the school principal that her Harry was murdered by a couple of robbers who broke into their flat. Well, it wasn't like they were going to believe them if they said that he was killed by a monster sent by some delusional religious zealot. She was sent to a school counsellor. Of course she didn't say anything apart from her father; she had already been in one crazy shithole to want to go to another.

After she graduated, she got a job in order to spare some money to go to college and moved out. She still kept in touch with Douglas, but that was every then and now. He was still doing his detective business and she also moved on. Almost.

Closing the bathroom door and slipping off her clothes, she turned on the shower. Her girlish figure was gone and had now turned into a much more fuller shape. Soft curves graced her body and her skin wasn't as blotchy as it was in her teenage years, though she still had imperfections. Her entire body was still adorned with light freckles. Stepping into the warm stream, her muscles relaxed and she enjoyed the way the constant waves of droplets pelted against her skin, almost in rhythm with the rain outside.

Once she stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around her, she walked towards the mirror. She bit her lip, feeling childish as she removed the piece of cloth that covered it. She stared at her reflection, her eyebrows furrowed. She kept her dyed blonde but she let it grow past her shoulders, her curls kinking up at the ends and giving soft curls on her side fringe. At first she didn't know whether to keep dying it or let it go black nor did she know whether or not to keep the name Heather or change it back to Cheryl.

But she kept telling herself that she, Cheryl and Alessa, although they were the same, were completely different. She didn't have any of Alessa's telekinesis powers, okay fair enough she did have some supernatural senses but not to the extent of her former self. As for Cheryl, she was only Alessa's second part.

Heather groaned, she had every single memory that those two had along with her own; both joyful and agonising. Yet it was still so confusing and she tended not to ponder on it too much; reincarnations and forced demonic pregnancies equalled head explosions.

Drying herself off and combing her hair, she changed into her plain-looking pyjamas. The evening went on as usual; ate dinner, watched whatever was on TV and snuggled in with a packet of cheap crisps and mug of hot chocolate to watch some old comedy film. As she laughed, she could feel the air change slightly. Or was it her imagination…? Her skin came out in goose bumps and she shuddered, pulling the warm blanket close to her, a futile effort nonetheless.

The rain came in harder and the thunder roared louder. Within a few seconds, the power got cut off. "Shit," Heather breathed, sitting in complete darkness. Gingerly getting up and feeling her way around, she focused her eyes on wherever the lightening's flash hit off of. Leading her way through the kitchen, her hands grazed over the handles of the drawers, mentally picturing which one was the one she was looking for. After several failed attempts, she pulled open the right one and took out her flashlight. Switching it on, she aimed the narrow light at various dark corners.

She strolled over to her bedroom and went in under the covers. As she closed her eyes and she felt her entire beginning to drift off into the warm, blissful darkness of sleep, her ears pricked up to the sudden harsh sound of static. Frowning, she grabbed her flashlight and holding it tight, she cautiously opened the door into the living room, revealing the source of the static. The TV screen only showed 'snow' as Heather stood in front of it. Picking up the remote, she pressed the off button.

Nothing.

She tried a couple more times and when that didn't work she tried the one on the TV itself.

Still no change.

"What's going on…?" she whispered, reaching in behind and ripping out the plug.

The static only grew louder and the 'snow' became distorted. Stepping back from it and tensing up her muscles, she held out the flash light. Fear coiled itself around her spine and tugged hard, sending her into a cold sweat as her teeth chattered. At the corner of her eye, sitting on an armchair, she could see a white sheet covering a body, the grimy cloth stained with blood at the left-hand side. From where its mouth was, she could swear she saw the thin fabric flutter.

Gasping, she swivelled her body around and flashed her light at the chair.

Nothing.

Her heart started beating faster and faster. This can't be real. This can't be real. This can't be REAL! Not again!

The air was no longer cold, instead it became humid and it seemed to hang, lifeless in the air, choking her.

But oh no, that wasn't the worst. The walls seemed to breathe heavily and moan as footsteps skitted across the room, surrounding her. Closing her into her own fears and anxieties.

Heather's eyes widened in horror as her worst fears came to life once again. The paint on the walls began to peel off, letting blood to seep out revealing tile and wire mesh. She screamed out when the TV screen burst out, sending shards of glass to scatter across the room. She shielded herself as her entire apartment continued to change and shift into the Otherworld. The screams and howls scratched her ears as they echoed inside them.

Running over to the kitchen and grabbing a chef's knife, she readied herself for the inevitable. Turning around, her grip on the handle tightened as she expected one of those crying penis-walking monsters to start wailing their way towards her.

Damn! She better get the First Aid kit in the bathroom, just in case. Quickly making her way to the bathroom, she dived into the cabinet underneath the sink to fetch the small, yet useful box. Relieved to find it still there, she straightened herself up only to catch a quick glimpse of herself in the mirror. Her eyes were as round as saucers as she stared at the reflection of the same body covered in bloody sheets as before, hunched over and standing at the door. A chill ran down her spine as her blood turned to ice.

"Heeeeaaaatthhhhheerrrrrrr….."


Author's Note: Thanks for reading. I shall get back to this as soon as possible. Please leave a review, they make me happy.