The rain fell in sheets of cold ice, making the dwindling fire creep into hidden corners and under the remains of the house to protect itself. I pushed my drenched hair out of my face and walked through a blackened doorway into what used to be the beautiful living room of Marcy Mae Halder. She was dead now, along with her husband and son. And who's fault is that? I ask myself silently, stumbling on a fallen piece of ceiling and landing on my knees right under a hole, the rain hitting me again.

Maybe I'll die here. Of course that wasn't true. I couldn't die... Unfortunately. I laid down on my side, a sharp pain striking through my side as the damage down finally settled in. I could feel blood running down my arm. Or maybe it's rain. It didn't matter, I realized. This wasn't even my body. It was borrowed... Stolen, now. The body would die and I would move on, perfectly fine. Maybe I'd take that pretty blonde I'd seen earlier at Chancy's. Anything had to be better then the skinny, dying creature I now possessed.

I could feel her now. Her Jersey accent complaining weakly about the pain and the inability to see. She didn't seem deeply bothered, just slightly annoyed, like someone too drunk to care their arm just got broken in half. I sighed and slipped my eyes closed, digging my nails into the floor as my soul tried to detach itself from the dying body. Not yet. This was the best part. Here.

The wall between life and death was a blinding white that was too beautiful to sting your eyes. It was covered in silver vines and flowers that bloomed and died all in a split second, over and over again. This was the only time I got to see it. I wasn't allowed to die, so I was stuck here. I winced as the light flashed to the darkness of Earth as the body died. I was standing over her, my dress -the same I'd been looking at for over 200 years- didn't blow in the wind and I couldn't feel anything anymore.

Not even the rain as it fell through me and onto the floor. I hated this part. The part where I was still here, in the midst of a secret war. Death, chaos, and anarchy surrounding everything, the thickness of smoke still present even in what should be a peaceful night of rain and silence.

I turned away from the body and walked away, stepping out of the burnt house and out into the suburb, filled with sirens and people rushing about. I fought to stay and watch them pull my friends from the ashes, forced myself not to listen as they talked about the remarkable lack of burns on a certain little boy and forced myself to walk faster as the little boy sat up and dug his pointed little teeth into the woman's neck, desperate to revive himself.

I made it to Eden faster then I should have. The smell of alcohol and death filled the air but neither had an affect on me. I sat in an empty chair at the bar and watched people come and go, singling out people worth singling out and making a silent checklist. Then she was there. Her hair was the colour of fresh snow and spilled in imperfect spirals down to her waist, she wore nothing but a strapless, short bubblegum-pink dress and when she looked at me with wide tireless baby-blue eyes, she saw. Perfect.

I held out my hand, palm-up, and called her over with a finger. She walked over and sat next to me, her eyes never leaving mine.

"You're real." She whispered, her voice was a soft, innocent-making noise amongst the yelling and laughter. "I could feel you from outside."

I nodded, reaching out my hand to touch her cheek and watching my fingers sink into her skin, feeling the tug as my soul shoved her's down and filled it's place. When I blinked again I was starring at an empty barstool.

Now to find the twins. I smiled, and inhaled, finally able to feel my eyes sting at the chemicals in the air and my lungs protest, a cough building in my throat as the smoke filled me. It felt wonderful.