A/N:

Well, I actually did this as a Halloween suspense story for English class. My sweet little Niff couple got stuck in my head after I reread it, since I had already thought of the name Nick as the romantic interest for my narrator in my English story. After turning the story into my teacher, I changed up some details, switched the narrator with Jeff, added on some smaller scenes, and BAM! This happens. Hope you like!

Thanks to my beta, Hope-Dream-Read.

I flicked the blond hair out of my eyes, shrugging the near twenty-pound backpack over my shoulder. Walking as swiftly away from my history class as I possibly could, I felt a shove knock me into the lockers.

'Just keep moving' was reverberating though my head. Still, I took a quick glance backwards to see who it was. A group of three thugs in yellow letterman jackets were snickering behind me. 'Basketball jocks. What a surprise.'

Trying not to let the events of the last period run rampant through my mind, I made a very hasty escape to the lunchroom.

But there is no one to sit next to you, to talk to you. No one to ask about your day, and, if they know you well enough, to specifically not talk about your day. No one to lend a hand to help, or a shoulder to lean on. No one.

So you must agree with me when I say it's hard not to think of that last period.

The erasers chucked. The disproportionate and inappropriate caricatures. The awful things they whisper in my ear. 'Ugly.', 'No one will ever love you.', and the worst of them all, the "F" word. 'Fag.'

To top it off, that oral presentation on the Bedouins that I knew would have aced if it weren't for those jerks in the back row and the front row and every row in between, smirking, smirking, smirking at me, seeing my throat close up, plotting, waiting, laughing at my downfall.

You know, when you finish middle school, you think things will change. That the drama will stop, things will quiet down. People will mature. Maybe you can make some friends; even upperclassmen, if you are lucky.

Boy, are you completely wrong.

I roughly swallowed the rest of the breaded hockey puck that this cafeteria calls a healthful chicken patty. Tears blurred my eyes. I didn't give a crap anymore. Still, I shouted at myself, 'Stop it, it's just going to give them one more thing to make your life a living hell.' It gave me enough substance to keep the tears from leaking out.

I went to go throw the rest of my lunch out, but in the short time it took me to walk to the trash can, I accidentally send myself sprawling into a girl. Her shoulder length brown hair covered the front of the yellow dress she was wearing, as well as a part of a simple golden chain that adorned her neck- with a cross hanging down.

'Oh shit. Preacher's daughter.'

"Get off of me!" she hissed, and, with a shove mightier than one would have thought from her stature, heaved my talker and lankier body after her. As she stalked off, her green eyes were trained on me, filled to the brim with malice and a look of disgust.

"Screw this," I muttered. It was Friday, and I only had Study after lunch. Like my teacher was ever going to realize that I missed the last period of the week. And like my parents were ever going to care that I skipped a class.

I got off of my seat. Walked out of the crowded cafeteria. Out of the building.

And no one stopped me.

I slipped to the center of town, noting in the dull, deep parts of the back of my mind that what I was doing was wrong. I ended up wandering aimlessly past storefronts. Cheap retail shops were setting up strings of orange lights, polyester cobwebs, and tacky ghost decorations. I had completely forgotten; Halloween was coming up just around the corner. I hadn't trick-or-treated since fourth grade. I'll probably just end up sitting on the front porch half the night again, giving out candy to the adorable kids who prance down the streets in their little costumes.

I strolled over to a metal bench in the park in the center of town. I shrugged my shoulders forward and pulled my hoodie over my head. 'Don't want the cops to see me.' Pulling out my iPod and popping in the earbuds, I decided to drone out the world with the one thing I really loved – music. It doesn't matter what kind, just anything that can detach me from this hellhole of a world I'm residing in now.

In hindsight, it probably wasn't the best idea I've had. Should have kept on my toes.

The first thing I noticed was that the sunlight had half disappeared. I looked up at the sky to see if there was a storm coming, and immediately stopped.

There were those yellow jackets again. You know, to be honest, after the first two weeks, I didn't even try and pick up on their names. They all had the same faces to me now. Four of them surrounded me this time. The ringleader, "not-your-average-jock" was flanked by "sixth-year-of-high-school" and "fresh-out-of-juvie". But it was "half-giant-all-muscle" that was the one looming behind me; the one casting that ominous shadow.

"Saw you get out of school, fairy boy," grunted Leader. "We were having a boring day, so we decided to follow you." He nodded to Delinquent, who plucked my iPod out of my hands and pocketed it. "Y'know, we have been thinking about doing a little experiment. But we need someone to help us out. I'm guessing you aren't busy, no?"

"W-what if I said I was booked?" I stuttered, craning my neck to look at Strong, and then whipping back to Leader.

He smirked. "Bad choice. We'll just have to free up your schedule."

I saw him pulling back for the punch, but I probably passed out from fright before his fist made contact.

My head skinned over a rock with a bump, waking me up from unconsciousness. I opened my eyes, and instantly regretted it. Dead leaves flew into my face, blinding me momentarily. I shook my head back and forth, freeing the last bits of debris, and I realized what situation I was in. My mouth was gagged with a bandana, and bungee cords were tying my hands and feet, the latter being held by Idiot as he dragged me through a forest. The setting sun putting an orange glow over everything, making me squint. I shifted my head in such a way so I could see that Leader, Delinquent, and Strong were trudging along behind us.

My feet were soon unkindly dropped on the woodland floor. Lying on my back, I was able to hurl myself up into a sitting positing, and I instantly started working on the ties binding me, but my attempts were in vain. After laughing at my struggles, Leader pulled the gag off of my mouth.

"HELP! HELP!" I screeched, turning my head to yell at all parts of the forest.

"Shut up!" ordered Leader, as someone smacked the backside of my head hard enough for me to see stars. "There isn't anyone who lives around here, so it's no use." My head still hung forward, but that soon changed as the same hand grabbed my hair and yanked it upwards harshly. "See that?" said Leader.

It was an old cottage; two stories and an attic. The white-faded-to-gray paint was peeling away from the walls, and you could see the rotting boards beneath, eaten away by termites. Half of the shutters were missing, and all of the first floor windows were barred up with short, metal poles. It was too dark inside to see anything. It even looked as if there might be a hole in the shingled roof, but from my vantage point, I couldn't see it clearly. There was one door, with a broken stone step that led up to it, which was flanked on either side by dead bushes, obviously untended in years.

"Do you know what that is?" asked Leader.

I shook my head, praying to God that it wasn't what I thought it was.

"It's the old McGuild shack."

Now, you should understand something here. This house is haunted. And when I say haunted, I mean haunted. You have got your Whaley house, and the Borley rectory, but then, in its own little league, is the McGuild shack. No one has been in there in years because everyone knows something supernatural going on in there. Not even the police. Kids could create a meth lab in that place if it weren't for the fact that no one would step a foot inside.

The synapses in my brain were working double-time, and it didn't take long to for me to think of what they were going to do to me. A horrified expression plastered my face, and I started hyperventilating.

Leader's snide grin just broadened. "I see you have figured it out," he said, words dropping like acid. With a quick nod, Idiot and Strong had me by the arms, and were dragging me to the house quickly, my feet kicking and struggling to stay as far away as I could. Delinquent kicked open the door with his foot, which made it seem that even he was afraid to touch the house. The two thugs threw me onto the floor, partially stunning me, and then quickly untied my bonds.

Even if I could clear the blackness that swam before my eyes, there was no way I was fast enough, let alone strong enough to get past the three boys surrounding the door, and then around Leader, who was standing five feet away from the entrance to the house. "We'll be back in the morning, to see if you have survived the night…or not," he ended, eyes gleaming. While Leader had scared me so far, that little sparkle in his eye, like he was going to enjoy this, creeped me out.

The henchmen backed away form the doorframe. At the last moment, Leader tossed Delinquent a skeleton key. He slammed the door shut, and I heard the lock snap with finality. Without another sound, the posse swiftly walked away.

I ran to the door, not believing it was possible. How could the door lock from both the outside and the inside? I looked through the glass windowpane; it was true. There were locks on both sides of the door. "How could that be?" I thought aloud. "Locks are made to keep things from coming in."

"… It's to keep something from getting out," I surmised. My hands started to shake from the fear that started creeping down my spine and jangling all my nerves. I rubbed them on the sides of my arms to get them stop, but it didn't work. I went to go grab something heavier than my hoodie, but then I realized it. My jacket, my backpack, and all my stuff were left at the park! I had nothing at all!

I really started to flip out. I was searching everywhere, anywhere, trying to find an escape. But there was nothing, nothing at all. The first floor was only a single room. The only things I could find were five dust-covered windows, which were all barred up, the door, ('Definitely locked,' I thought, as I struggled frantically to get the doorknob to turn), a small wooden table, two ladder backed chairs, a chimney, as well as a small set of cabinets, a candlestick holder, and, lying on the table, a large, fat book. When I crept over to inspect it, I found out it was a copy of Dante's Inferno.

I turned around, and saw that there was a rickety set of stairs in the back corner of the house going up to the second floor. Parts of the banister were missing, and the stairs looked fairly unstable, even though they were attached to the wall. "There is no way I am going up there," I muttered. Being here is bad enough, no reason to go any farther than I need to. Unconsciously rubbing my arms again, I sat down in one of the hard chairs that surrounded the table. I winced at the sound of protest it made with my weight pressing down on it. Gingerly picking up the battered copy of Inferno with my thumb and forefinger, I flipped through the yellowed pages that were close to ripping out.

A sudden gust of wind ripped at the house, and I dropped the book back on the table. I felt very uneasy, and decided that I shouldn't be touching that. "It could be cursed, for all you know," I muttered, and considering what house I was inside now, it wouldn't be a huge surprise if it was.

I got up from the chair, its legs scraping the floor in outcry. I paced back and forth, not knowing what to do. 'What am I going to do? I'm stuck in a haunted house until those assholes come back tomorrow morning... But what if they don't come back. What if they leave me here? I could die!... But I wouldn't put it past them. And my parents are going to flip! I am so screwed!'

My parents don't really like me. They aren't religious, but ever since I came out, they did the best they could to ignore me. However, I am their kid. If I went missing and they did nothing, they could go to jail on child neglect charges. They weren't the type of people to mess with the law, but I had a gut feeling they weren't going to call the cops. That wouldn't stop them from hollering at me when, and if, I get home.

I realized that there was one way to get out. The second floor windows had no bars; I could jump out of one of them. I stopped my pacing and was about to head up the stairs, when I realized I had no idea what was up there; I hadn't explored yet. I strained my neck around the side of the staircase, and could only see the very beginning of the second floor. I didn't think I wanted to go up there. I kept getting these weird vibes; something was off.

But it was the only possible way to escape this sinister place! I had to try it. I stepped onto the first stair, and immediately paused and drew back. On that first stair, it felt like the room had just dropped ten degrees. Maybe this was a bad idea; perhaps I shouldn't go. And, come to think of it, if I did jump out if the window, there would be nothing for me to land on. I could break my leg, and there would be no way for me to get out of the forest. Even worse, I could snap my neck, and die instantly.

I didn't know what was worse, dying by jumping out of the window, dying by whatever haunts this awful house, or dying by the four boys and whatever else they decide to do to me tomorrow morning. Mind grimly set up, I decided to head up the stairs. I braved past the first step, and the cold stunned me a bit again. As I continued on, another gust of wind wracked the house, but this time, it was partially let in; probably by some hole in the wall. It smashed around the bottom floor of the house, flipped around Inferno's book pages, and finally rested again.

There was a sense of stillness in the air. It wasn't stiff, on the contrary, it felt very breakable. With the staircase letting off a creak, I lowered myself down from the second step. The room returned to its natural temperature, and I slowly edged myself over the book. It was open to Canto III. One line drew my eye towards it.

"Abandon all hope, you who enter here." It looked like the sentence was about to jump from the page.

Yeah, I don't think I am going to go upstairs.

Night had fallen. The sun was gone, a few weak rays still retreating. The moon was out in full, so that plus the feeble sunlight that was left shed just enough light for me not to trip over my own feet. I had to find a light source, and quick. Looking through the two small cabinets, I saw a few blue candles and a very small box of matches. They would probably last me the night, if I was lucky. I quickly lit the match, and subsequently a candle, which I had slipped into the holder.

The candle gave off enough light, and a small, small amount of heat. I sat down at the table, and placed my hands around the flame, trying my best warm them up. Fire tends to be soft and glowing, but this one was sharp and ragged. The shadows were a mix of being frightened off and being sucked in by the tiny flame.

Without a warning, something broke the silence. An unnatural something.

Skriiitch skriiitch shwoshp tap tap tap.

My eyes widened, and I slowly looked up from the candle. It sounded like it was coming from a floor above me.

Skriiitch skriiitch shwoshp tap tap tap.

'There it is again!' I nervously pulled the candleholder close to me, and I raced to the locked door. Obviously, I wouldn't be able to get out, but I would do anything to get away from the staircase.

Something glinting dully through a window on the opposite side of the room caught my eye. It was near a very tall tree, situated close to the house. I squinted my eyes, trying to get a clearer view without actually going near the window. The small glimmer seemed to be attached to a blob.

The blob was moving up the tree. Slowly, but definitely moving. Soon, it passed the first floor, and I couldn't see it any longer. I was torn between going closer to the opposite wall to look for it, and shrinking back against the door. But when a rustling sound from the tree was made, coming closer and closer to the house, I decided to take the second option.

There was a sudden whooshing sound, and then, out of nowhere, thud crack thump.

"Unnngh…" The sound resonated around the house.

The blob must have made it inside somehow. My heart started racing like a madman. If the door wasn't supporting me, my knees would have probably buckled beneath me.

My fight or flight instinct was taking I couldn't flee; I was trapped in the house. I had to fight it. 'What can I do? I'm not strong enough to fend off a starving creature!'

I was left with no more time to think. There was a shuffling of footsteps that got louder and louder, closer and closer to the staircase. I dug the nails of one of my hands into the wax part of the candle, the other hand gripping the top of the holder so tightly it looked like the skin was going to split off of my knuckles. Heavy sounding thumps were slowly making their way down the staircase. Finally, I saw a shadow hovering on the wall at the bottom of the stairs. 'It's now or never…'

"YAHHHH!" I screeched, sprinting across the room, candle held over my head like a weapon. An equally as loud screech came from the figure that had rounded the corner.

The thing fell back onto the stairs and hit its head just as I swung my candle at its face, but inches away I stopped. It wasn't at terrible beast out to get me; no, it was just a boy. He was a bit taller than me, with black hair that slightly fell in his caramel-mocha eyes. He wore a tight fitting shirt and jeans that were strung low around his hips, but he looked… good. He held himself in a way that he knew it, too.

"Holy crap!" the boy said, rubbing on his temple where he hit it. "What the hell are you trying to do to me? Kill me? Jeez, that the second time tonight I hit my head… Well?"

"Y-you…you're not a monster out to get me…" I quietly murmured, knowing how ridiculous it sounded.

He eyed at me strangely. "No. What would make you think that? Am I really that ugly?" he asked, a smirk in his tone,

"No! No, not at all!" I said, then, realizing how awkward that sounded, blushed like my face was on fire. Not making eye-contact, I added, "Do you… do you just not know what this place is?"

"Not really," he answered. "I just moved here recently. The name's Nick Duval. And you …?" he asked, extending his arm.

"Jeff. Jeff Sterling" I replied, taking his warm hand in mine.

"It's nice to meet you," Nick said, "but maybe it would have been better under different circumstances. So, anyways, why are you hyped up about this place?"

"It's haunted," I whispered, retreating to sit at the table. "Like, really haunted. No one has been inside since the 1930's; everyone is too afraid."

"Well, 'til now, at least," he said, following me. "What are you doing in here, then, if no one wants to go inside? Are you one of those thrill seekers?" He nudged me with an elbow and wiggled an eyebrow. I was about to laugh, but it died on my lips when I remembered why I was in here.

"A group of guys dragged me here against my will," I replied.

"Oh. Well, I'm… I'm sorry. Really," Nick said, putting his hand over mine.

I tensed, and Nick realized something was wrong, so he slowly drew his hand back off of mine. It's not that I didn't like the contact, I was just not used to it.

"Thanks, though," I said, trying not to make him feel that I didn't want his company. "Why are you here, anyway?"

"A few months ago, my parents decided that we… needed a new change of scenery. They quickly found a plot of land in this town that was really big, and also pretty cheap." Nick's eyes glazed over, as if he was lost in the story he was telling. "We moved in the middle of September. I haven't really made any friends yet at school, but whatever," he said, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck.

"I was bored this afternoon, so I decided to go walking in the woods that our property had. After a few hours, I found this house. It was getting dark, but I knew my parents wouldn't care. They know I can take care of myself. Just as I was going to inspect this place, four hulking guys came out. After they were out of eyesight, I got curious and decided to find a way in. One of the upper windows was partially open, so I climbed up a tree and across a branch to the height of the window, pushed it up the rest of the way with a stick, and flung myself in. To be honest, it was a really stupid move. It was dark, so I could have easily missed my jump and smashed my face into the wall. That would have really scared you, no?" he asked, cracking a grin.

I bit my lip in a smile, and was about to answer, but was stopped when a very loud scraping noise came from upstairs. "Do you know what that could be?" I asked in a whisper.

Nick visibly gulped. "No. There is no furniture on the second floor. The tree's branch that I jumped from was a good foot away from the house, so that couldn't be it either. Maybe… maybe we should just go," and, quickly jerking back his chair, he stood up and ran to the door. But before he even reached the handle, I interjected.

"We can't. We're locked in, and that is the only door out."

"What?" he said, whipping his head around furiously.

"They locked me in here, and that's the only exit. I've been stuck inside for at least a half an hour now."

"Why didn't you tell me this before?" Nick yelled.

"Like a fat lot of change that would have made! You were the one who jumped in here! I couldn't have stopped you," I reasoned.

"…Oh my God," Nick said. He immediately started walking around the room, opening and closing the cabinet drawers. He pulled out the rest of the candles and the matches, but there was nothing else.

"What are you looking for?" I asked, trying to sound nonchalant, but probably failing. The calmness that he had earlier kept me in check, but now that it was gone, fear was seeping though the air back into my veins.

"Protection," he grunted.

"Wait. Are you trying to say you aren't afraid of physically jumping to your possible death, but you are afraid of the paranormal?" I queried.

"Deathly. Not afraid, deathly afraid."

"I told you earlier the place was haunted!"

"I thought you were shitting me," he said. He was partially smiling, but it was probably out of fear, and his voice shook on the last statement.

"Here, take this candle," I offered. "It's the only 'protection' we have."

Nick sat down again, and gripped the candle with one hand the way I had earlier, knuckles turning white with strain. He knotted the fingers of his other hand in his hair, and rested his head in his palm. I tentatively took my hand, and placed it on his shoulder. When he made no movement to get way,I slowly rubbed my thumb in a circle on the muscle, trying to get him to calm down.

After at least ten minutes, I tried to strike up a conversation. "Do you think we could jump from the window you got in from?"

Nick turned his face to me, a slight red blotch appearing on his forehead where his hand had been. "No, if you just dropped down, you would break a bone at the minimum. And there is no way you could try and jump to the tree. The branch was above the window, and I was at the very edge. I'm surprised I didn't fall off before I leapt through." Running an eye over me that could only be stated as apprising, the blush started creeping across my face again. He continued, saying, "I have never seen you before this. Not even in school."

"Are you sure? Not even in passing of classes?" I asked.

"No, I would have remembered you. Definitely," Nick said, said, eyes soft.

"Ah, well…" I trailed off, not knowing how to respond to the compliment. I decided to take a huge leap. In the end, I would probably just be hurting as usual, but no one has ever been like this to me before… Oh, I don't know the word. Nice is too flimsy, but I don't want to jump and say attracted. Anyways, it was worth a shot. "Do you, um, want to go out for coffee, after this whole thing is over?" I asked, head turned away so I wouldn't have to see his reaction. Not getting a reply, I continued to ramble on. "Or not, if you don't want to. We don't have to. I mean, I don't want to force you-"

"What do you mean? I'd love to! Of course I will," Nick said. I turned back, and he looked as excited as a little puppy. I cracked a grin at his ridiculousness. "So, it's a date?" he affirmed. Flushing when he realized what he said, he amended, saying, "Or a coffee thing, or whatever…"

"Yeah, a whatever," I agreed. We were chuckling, but immediately stopped when we heard a large shattering sound.

"Aieeeeeeeee! Aieeeieeeieee!"

The wailing continued for five seconds, but in that time, I jumped a foot in the air, Nick, two feet, and the next thing I knew, he had his arms around me, squishing me against him. I could feel his heart throbbing though his shirt, and mine was three times as fast.

"Oh dear Lord, please don't let me die," I muttered.

After minutes that could have been stretched to hours, I began to hesitantly relax into Nick's touch. His grip became softer, but he was no way close to letting me go. In one quick movement, Nick sat down on a chair, and I immediately and unintentionally slipped into his lap. My eyes must have been as wide as saucers as he rested his head on my shoulder. Placing my hands over the ones that were already crossing my chest, a small smile played at my lips as I thought how ridiculous this was. I got beaten up, dragged to a haunted house, locked inside, got the shit scared out of me, and found a boy.

'I found a boy. Maybe things will work out…'

Just as a flicker of hope grew inside of me, I found out that of course, they wouldn't. A beam of light passed across a window, and for an instant, I could see the outline of a body. Nick was already pulling at my hand, starting up the stairs.

"No! That's where the scream came from!" I whisper-yelled.

"It's away from whatever that thing outside is!" Nick argued, and he started pulling me up the stairs.

But a key was placed in the door, the knob was turning, and I was frozen with fear. Before Nick pulled me up any further, I slipped my hand out of his grasp and pushed him up the steps just as the door swung open.

It was Delinquent.

"Ha! I knew it!" he said. "I told Duke you wouldn't have escaped. But no, he made me check on you." He started coming closer and closer to me, and I started slipping towards the side of the house parallel to the stairs so he wouldn't see Nick. Delinquent put a gloved hand into his jacket, and he pulled out a small, thick piece of plastic. He flicked it experimentally, and a blade slid out. He toyed with it, and seeming to make up his mind, strode over to me quickly. Delinquent lightly placed the tip of the blade at my neck.

"If you tell anyone, anyone, that we put you in here, I swear to God that I will end you. Got it?"

I couldn't answer quick enough. My breath was caught in my throat.

"Got it?" he asked again, lightly digging into my neck with the blade. I could feel a bit of blood beading where the knife was.

A figure hurtled in from out of nowhere. Nick, my Nick, pulled Delinquent into a strangle hold, and yanked him off of me. I sank down the wall, trying to grasp at something for support. The two boys tussled and turned around the bottom floor, knocking into the table. Punches were being thrown, and strangled yelps were common. I pushed myself off the wall in time to see Delinquent quickly overbearing Nick. I knew the boy couldn't hold him off for much longer.

Reacting on an impulse, I grabbed the candle and its holder. I ran over to the writhing mass of limbs, and lifted the holder above my head. The candle fell out of the holder, onto the floor, and was immediately extinguished. Darkness blinded me.

I swung wildly, trying to find Delinquent to hit, when I connected with the hard part of the back of a head.

Someone fell with a groan, and was still. The other sunk to the floor as well. I raced to the cabinets, pulling a match out of the box and, with shaking hands, relit the candle that had rolled under the table.

I stood back up, and saw Delinquent completely passed out on the ground.

Nick was lying against the wall. His eyes were completely screwed up with pain, and he clutched the side of his waist. A whimper escaped his lips. I raced over to him putting down the candle and placing my hands on his face.

"What happened? What's wrong?" I cried.

Nick pulled one of his hands off his side, and looked at a small silver object that lit up when he touched it. My iPod. Eyes glazed over, he quickly flipped through my songs. "It seems we have the same taste in music," he gasped, dropping the player at my knees.

It was covered in something red. Blood. I looked at Nick's hands, and it was there too. I slowly lifted them off his side, and saw a dark red patch on his shirt. I turned to the passed out form of Delinquent, and saw that the knife he loosely held was coved in blood.

"He stabbed you," I murmured, begging for it not to be true. Nick just nodded slowly.

I immediately slid down beside him. Silently, I put one hand under his knees, and the other I wrapped around his back and laced with his hands that were holding his wound. I twisted him about, so that he was resting against me. I let go of him, only for a moment, to take off my hoodie and rip strips of cloth off of it. Carefully, I wrapped them tightly across his torso, above and below his wound, and then immediately placed my hands back where they were previously were to support him.

"It's going to be okay," I assured him. "I'll take care of you… Thanks f-for doing… that for me."

"Any thing for you," he breathed.

Wetness fell on my shoulder, and I didn't know if it was his tears or mine.

It has been four hours, and here I still sit with Nick, from what my iPod says, 1:26 AM. I have only let go to light new candles, and I am on my second to last.

I have talked to him the whole time, but he only didn't start answering me back an hour ago. He is pale as a ghost, and sweating and shivering at the same time.

'Why, God. Why? The one time. The one time! I have a friend… maybe even more. And you go and try and take him away from me. How could you. How could you!'

My sniffles have turned to sobs. A soft hand caresses my cheek, tenderly wiping my tears away. I look down, and see Nick's eyes partially open again, gazing at me with some emotion that I can't quite discern. He curls up closer against me, and brown eyes slip closed for a second time.

My lips tug on my lip, and my tears continue down my face, but softer this time, trying to keep my chest from spaziming.

I don't think I will ever stop. And I don't when I hear footsteps.

Not when they are coming down the stairs.

Not when they turn the corner.

Not when they turn to be an old woman, her face plastered with confusion.

My eyes flicker open when light hits them. There is a sloped ceiling above my head, and I can feel scratchy sheets beneath me. I turn my face to the side, and see shelves and shelves of cans and food and goods. I turn to the other side, and I see Nick lying on another bed, gauze wrapped around him. The old woman is sitting on a chair, just staring at him.

"Oh, you are up!" she says loudly, stiffly rising out of her chair and coming towards me. Her stringy, unkempt hair falls behind her shoulders, and she only wears a tattered skirt-and-shirt ensemble. Her back is severely hunched over.

"I 'ad to drug you to sleep after you 'elped me carry this lad up the stairs. You were crying so 'ard, I thought you were going into shock. Aw, don't look so ashamed, he must be very important to you!" she says, patting me on the back.

"Where am I?" I reply, not knowing my surroundings.

"Hmm? Speak up, boy. I'm almost deaf!"

I guess this is why she didn't hear anything earlier. I raise my voice a bit higher, but not loud enough to wake up Nick. "Where am I?"

"Aw, you are just in my 'umble attic!"

I jolt out of the bed, and stumble a bit as the room starts to spin.

"You… you are what haunts this place?" I ask.

" 'aunts?" The old woman starts to laugh. " 'aunts? I'm not a witch! I'm not a ghost!" She chuckles. "I have just lived 'ere for a while. Well, ever since my family decided I went crazy with the passing of my 'usband, and locked me in 'ere. My name is Asa," she ends.

"So… this place isn't haunted?" I question.

"Nope. Not at all. There maybe some blasting drafts that blow around lighter things, but that comes from the 'oles in the walls. The place isn't 'aunted, trust me."

"Then… what was the scraping noises? And the screaming?"

"Oh, that! Sorry if I scared you, dearie. I was cleaning up, and the screaming came later when I accidentally dropped a jar of peppers. It shattered, and now all of the peppers are inedible! They are my favorite, too!" Asa pouts.

"How do you get all of this stuff if you are stuck in here?"

"My grand-niece comes 'ere once every few months or so to give me food. She also slipped me the key to get out, saying it would be good for my face to see the light of day again." Asa smiles, adding, "She is always a spitfire, that one. But I always tell 'er I don't want to; staying inside for the past eighteen years has made me a bit afraid of the outdoors."

"You have a key to get out?" I exclaim.

"Yep. You want it?" She gets up, pulls away a floorboard, brings out a key and tosses it to me.

"Th-thank you," I stutter. 'A key! I can finally get out of here! I can go home!' "Wait… what did you do with the other boy? He's still downstairs!"

"Oh, 'im?" Asa replies, idly staring out the window. "Don't worry. I just told said to get out of my 'ouse, and not to say anything to anyone, or 'e'll have to deal with my broom and me. 'e booked it out of 'ere so fast, 'e was a blur!" I keep silent, but the reason in my mind can easily figure out that while she probably thought he was afraid of getting hit, it was more likely he was fearful of being cursed.

A groan resonates from across the room, and instantly I leap up and dash to Nick's side. He blearily sits up and wipes his eyes. "Hey," he croaks.

"Hey you," I reply, pushing the hair out of his eyes. "Will he be alright?" I ask Asa.

"Well, I was able to stop the bleeding with the stuff in my first-aid kit, and the wound will be tender and sore, but you may still want to bring 'im to the doctor, just in case of an infection. You are a smarty, though, using that jacket as a tourniquet!"

I just blush and smile, and Asa says, "I think I am going to find us some breakfast," and she turns to her shelves, but before she fully turns, she flashes a wink at me.

'A wink?' I am drawn back, however, when Nick squeezes one of my hands.

"We still on for our 'whatever'?" he asks.

"Yes," I say, "yes we are." I return the squeeze. Before we know it, two bowls of cereal passed their sell-by-date and a can of condensed milk are placed before us. We still quickly shove it down, and I have to stop myself from laughing at the face Nick makes from the milk that has probably soured.

"Ach, well, I don't think you two want to stay in this 'ouse all day. Best get going," says Asa, looking up from the corner that she was sweeping with a broom. Placing it against a wall, she shuffles her way over to us. She and I both grab one of Nick's arms, and we were able to help him up and get down the stairs.

"Thank you very much, Asa," I speak, and Nick nods his head vigorously. "Is there anything we can do?"

"Oh, no, just… stay safe. And find 'appiness. Though for you two, I don't think that's going to be too hard," she ends with a smirk. Nick and I both look away, but I slip my hand through his, and he can't stop the goofy grin from passing his face. I pull him to the door, slip the key through the lock, and as I pull the door open, the warm, crisp smelling fall air brushes against my face. Laughing, we walk outside, but turn back to the house as Asa is about to close the door again.

"Come back any time you want!" she declares, as she soundly closes the entryway. Waving goodbye, the two of us walk through a part of the forest full of birches.

"Do you have any idea where we are going?" I ask, turning my face towards Nick as he continues forward.

"Oh, yes. I'm just trying to get us back to my house. My mom will be flipping out because I have been gone, but she knows that… things happen, so she wouldn't call anyone until a full 24 hours pass."

"Hmm," I murmur. "Sounds like a cool mom."

"Yeah, my parents deal with all of my crap in stride." Chuckling, I just lace my fingers tighter with his.

To my surprise, we stop a few minutes later. Still nowhere near civilization, I take in the scenery. Birch trees arch over our head, sunlight just peering through the branches. There is a large hulking boulder in the center of the clearing, moss sparsely decorating the rock. Just like the rest of the forest, there are leaves littered all over the ground, but there are still some left on the trees. This one area, though not much different then the rest, seems to be a bit different. Like it emanates some sort of glow.

"What is this place?" I say, unsure how to put into words what I was seeing.

"Ah, well this is my favorite part of our land," he answers, looking at me again like the way he did when he was hurt and I was holding him. Somehow embarrassed, I turn away. "I like it here," I mumble.

Nick whips around and stands in front of me, holding both of my hands with one of his, and lifts my chin up with his other. "I like you more," he states.

"You are cheeseball," I state, but his compliment still sends that flash of blush up my cheeks again.

"I know," he says, rolling his eyes, but fixing them on mine again.

Our foreheads press together.

Downstairs in the cottage, without anybody knowing, Inferno flipped to Canto V.

"This one, who now will never leave my side,

kissed my mouth, trembling," it read.