Disclaimer: I do not own Ghost Hunt in any way, shape, or form.

Pain. That was the first thing that registered in my mind. It was dull at first, as my eyes slowly started to adjust to the darkness and my mind began awakening, but then it increased tenfold and I clamped my teeth on my lip to keep from screaming. It took only moments for me to register where I was and I really wished I didn't. I was in a cellar.

To be more specific, I was in the cellar of the Yukishi's manor. Everything came flooding back to me and I still remember when Mr. Yukishi had came to S.P.R. with this case. It wasn't anything too dangerous, just a couple freak accidents and a strange past that had loomed over the manor. At the time, S.P.R. was in a slow stage of business and the office seemed to get more confined and boring just as everyone was starting to get prickly. Obviously, we welcomed the distraction with open arms- truthfully, I was excited for the easy case. That was until the feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach started, which was the moment we pulled up to the manor. At one point in time, I am sure it was a beautiful place- but now, it felt dangerous. I should have spoken when my instincts immediately told me to flee, but I assumed that I was just a bit rusty. I should have voiced my concern when I felt someone following me, but I thought I was just being paranoid. I should have screamed at Naru to leave the building immediately when I dreamed of thick, never-ending blood and hands with vise-like grips that all lead to the dark, cellar.

That all lead to the cellar I was currently inside. My thoughts distracted me from the pain in my body for a bit, but I felt drenched. I didn't have to look down when I smelled that iron and metal-like aroma, or when the coppery-taste filled my mouth. I already knew I was drenched in blood. I knew I shouldn't have looked down- I really shouldn't have, but I did.

My once beige, cotton blouse was ripped, and now crimson, exposing my black and embarrassingly lacey bra. My chest was also covered in the sticky liquid. I had taken note that the small, red cardigan I had worn was missing- I had probably lost in when I was dragged here. Also, my cute, red ballet flats were missing and for a moment I felt annoyance above all else, but then reality crept up on me and I remembered that I was injured, trapped by a vicious spirit, and most likely going to be dead within a couple hours. I stared at my black shorts that looked almost the same, except for they were strangely heavy like they had just come out of the washer, but the substance dripping from them was blood- not water. I sighed.

My head felt incredibly heavy, and my vision was still a bit fuzzy. I knew I had hit it a couple times and I just hoped that I didn't have a concussion. I had a long, knife-wound on my stomach- though I knew it wasn't very deep. My back burned against the cold floor and I could still feel the fingernails running down my back. I knew I had marks from them, their severity still unknown, but I knew it bled and that my wound felt odd- I blindly guessed that the cuts were infected. I hoped I wasn't right, but I knew it was probable. I could see my legs covered in large bruises and scrapes. What worried me though was that I couldn't feel my left ankle or foot. Looking down, I saw that my ankle and foot were black, yellow, and green from all the bruises and I could see the finger-marks on my once blemish-free skin.

A couple years ago, I would've sobbed and possibly thrown up at the sight of so much blood. Though it still made me a bit queasy and I would sometimes have to fight back the urge to shed some tears… working with S.P.R. had made me immune to this. Naru rubbed off on me and I decided it was time to think rationally. I could barely move my body other than tipping my head. So, I settled for tilting my head at odd angles to try to make out the features in the cellar. So far, I had not seen an exit. Though the cellar was eerie there was no immediate threat looming over me and I let out a sigh of relief.

My relief was momentarily lived once the sudden chilly air enveloped me like a blanket. It was so sudden. My mind blanked when the misty image of a woman with beady eyes and unnaturally long finger-nails appeared. I tried not to notice her blood-stained kimono or the way blood matted her once-glossy hair. She must've been some sort of goddess in a past life, because even with her deadly appearance- she was breathtakingly beautiful… in a vicious sort of way. My mind was wandering when I nearly choked on the malice and anger that radiated off of her. It was so strong that I felt psychical pain.

Her lips moved and though there was no sound, I knew what she was saying. I knew what she wanted, and I really wish I hadn't known. Her lips continued to move in their silent, up-beat dance and she reached one of her sharp hands- no, claws- out to me. I drew back as much as my injured state would let me- yet she kept coming. My mouth opened and I prepared to scream, but… nothing came out. There was no sound. It was as if I had suddenly become deaf- because I couldn't even hear my ragged breaths or the sound of her kimono as she floated across the room to me, hand outstretched. I trembled… feeling my heart thumping rapidly in my chest. This was the end for me. Barely nineteen and already on death's doorstep. I closed my eyes- bracing myself for what would come. Perhaps it wouldn't hurt too much? Perhaps I would suddenly go numb with shock and I wouldn't feel her talons ripping through my flesh? No, that was just ridiculous. I would feel it… I would feel the pain and suffering and I would be forced to bear the burden of silence. I would have no parting words to fall on the kind and loving ears of my make-shift family and it made me feel sick.

A sharp intake of breath and I was pulled out of my musings. Her nails landed a little to the right of my heart. I winced… and waited. And waited… She didn't shove her hand through my chest- why? I looked to her and her expression miffed me. She looked slightly guilty, but when my wide eyes that were brimming with terror turned to her, she didn't retreat- she smiled. A smile full of amusement and malice and I couldn't look at her any longer. I turned away- and the room exploded with life. My friends. I could feel my friends… for a moment I let myself relax- let myself believe I would be safe with them near.

No. I had let my guard down.

Crimson. That was the last thing I remembered seeing when I looked passed the haze of pain that filtered across my tired eyes. Crimson pain. My precious crimson life-liquid was seeping out of me again and I barely registered the blood-curling scream that rang in the room. It was mine. The haze became more intense and I could only see blurry images now. The hand retracted from my chest cavity and I felt strangely empty- like a shell of something. Broken. Useless. Warm hands caressed my body. Voices hummed in my ears. Everything was so muddled as I felt myself slipping. I was falling, though I was already on the ground. It was a strange sensation that tickled and confused all of my senses.

"Goodbye…" I hadn't even noticed that the word flitted out, past my chapped lips until there was a reaction of louder static. I felt so lost. But there was something pulling me forward.. Pulling me away from it all. It hurt so much to stay, that I finally just let go.

I was flying. Falling. Gliding- through everything. Time, space, memories, … life. It was strange to not feel any fear, though I was in a territory unknown to me. I wasn't calm… and I wasn't happy. I was just there. I was a neutral force… Though something snapped inside of me and I was propelled a different direction. This time I felt the mental collision. I had hit a barrier. Something was keeping me in, or something was keeping me out. Neither was a good answer for me- and I just huffed. I was alone again- that I knew for sure. At least… I thought I was alone.

A soft voice echoed through the emptiness and my eyes shot open in surprise. What I saw filled me with relief - with gratitude, but also with dread. There was a boy in front of me. A boy dressed in black. His expression was unreadable and as I looked at him through my suddenly heavy eyelashes, I let out a breathy whisper,

"Hello, Gene."

So, I am having trouble deciding if this should just be a random one-shot or if this should be a snippet from a chapter of a huge ghost-hunt story with them going on different missions and this is one of them. Comment with what you think!