AUTHOR'S NOTE: I would love to give a huge thank you to ObsessedtwibrarianOtb for designing such a beautiful banner, and another thank you to Miss-deviantE for designing the graphic. I love it to pieces, thank you! If you would like to take a look at the larger version, this is the link: /author/LoveIsAlways/stories/11629/Love-Me-Back-to-Life this link will take you to Chapter 12, just go to the drop down menu and click on cover, you'll be able to see ObsessedtwibrarianOtb's masterpiece in all its glory.

I thought the impact would carry me straight into death, but the sterile shot of air exploding into my lungs was a pointed reminder of how very wrong I was. Slowly, I released the air while inside my mind I repeatedly questioned why I had survived, it made absolutely no sense, because how many people could honestly say that they've jumped in front of a train and lived? That's what I thought – no one; yet, here I am lying on this cold – and uncomfortable – flat object and…

Oh dear lord I'm naked.

Tentatively lifting my head, I looked down at my body and took notice of the considerably paler skin tone, and the unnatural stiffness to my limbs. In response to this revelation I flexed my toes and briefly closed my eyes in relief that I could, in fact, move my legs. Above me I heard a frantic scratching and I drew my attentions there. The more I concentrated the louder the scratching became, and then the dripping faucet came in and it sounded as if a gong was sounding two inches away from my ears. My hands flew up and pressed against the sides of my head, barely even muffling the sounds and then I squeezed my eyes shut – willing the noise away. Then it stopped, and all was silent, but when I looked over I could see the faucet dripping. I sat up and turned myself so I was facing the wall with the sink, my legs fell to the floor one by one and I cautiously made my way over to the sink where I then twisted the taps and the water drops ceased. Casually, I opened and closed the cupboard doors and the drawers to see what was inside. Occasionally, I would pick up and inspect the little tools that struck my fancy, and it wasn't until I came to a large drawer located beside a shelf with sterilizing equipment that I realized where I was. There was a large assortment of tweezers with varying length hands; there were different shaped metallic knives as, well as other ghastly tools. It appeared that I had woken up in a morgue.

But I'm not dead! Why would they take me to a morgue of all places? A simple hospital would suffice!

A cold shiver raked through my body and I crossed my arms while looking around for something to cover up with. In the corner, a white coat hung from a wooden stand and I recognized it as a Doctor's coat. Just like my dad's,I thought while slipping it on, a small but painful smile pulling on my lips. My fingers worked the buttons into the holes and I rolled the sleeves up as they were much too long, and then I walked through the large swinging doors and wandered into the hallways to see if there was anyone who could help me. There wasn't. However, that did not keep me from wondering further, my innate curiosity getting the better of me, as always. Gathering from the looks of the rustic brick walls and the dampness in the air, I understood that I was in the basement of an unknown building. There were three hallways; one that led straight down to the room I woke up in, and two separate ones that broke off horizontally, one leading to an extraordinarily clustered office and the second leading to a locked door. A peek through the window showed some sort of storage room, with quite a few small metal doors. I would have liked to go in, but since there had been no key in the office I decided to go back to the large room at the end of the hall. I was confused to say the least, and cold. I must have been down here for some time because this cold has caused a discomfort in the back of my throat, not to mention a sudden dryness and oddly enough, a burning in the pit of my stomach.

It was then that I wandered back into the main artery of the morgue. I sat down in a stiff chair that was paired with a small desk that I had not noticed before and I rested my head in my hand allowing my eyes to squeeze shut. The confusion I woke up to was at the back of my mind; now, all I could think about was that stupid letter.

I do not love you; to be honest, I never did..

Oh I was a fool to think a worldly man could love the naïve daughter of a renowned Doctor. I had thought, no, hoped that after seeing his true face without fleeing it would have been enough… but I was wrong. I wish I had died! Why the train didn't kill me like I intended it to, I'll never know. Just please oh please someone have mercy on my shattered heart.

You were a game so easily won.

A broken sob escaped my lips and I pressed my knuckles to them, my front teeth digging into the skin, tears dripping from my chin. Damn you! I thought savagely, What could I have possibly done to deserve this heartache?

A game easily won is a game I grow bored with.

My arm swung back and the plastic stand of papers that was on the desk crashed to the floor, I should never have opened my heart to you, my mind screamed hopelessly and I glanced down at my right hand, just noticing the missing ring now. I shot up and scrounged viciously through the storage cupboards in the morgue, sending drawers filled with tools, masks and gloves crashing to the ground and it wasn't until I found the last drawer of a small table beside the door and opened it that I could relax. There in a small plastic dish was the white pearl and moonstone ring that I had worn for two years, never once taking it off. Slipping it on, I allowed a wry smile to cross my lips and I sighed to myself, I suppose I could keep this one little happy memory, and gently I begun to spin the ring around my finger, almost possessively. I was so engrossed in the action that I did not hear the tentative footsteps enter the room. It was not the sound of the person entering, but the persons smell, as if the person had bathed in perfume. My mouth watered and I turned around to face the middle aged man standing in the middle of the room with a look of horror on his face.

"I apologize for the mess -."

"How are you still alive?"

I swallowed through the dryness in my mouth and tried not to focus on the tantalizing smell that filled the room. "I don't know why I'm still alive," I said more to myself than to the doctor, and then my head turned slightly when I caught an unfamiliar sound.

"D-do you hear that?"

The doctor looked frightened to his wits end; he was pale like he had seen a ghost and his eyes were wide as they stared at me. I listened closely, not really paying attention to the man and then my eyes snapped to him, "Is that your heart beat?"

I heard his breath hitch in his throat and I looked at him in wonder, "I can hear your heartbeat…"

It was then that I noticed the large white bandage on his hand and the gruesome red line that appeared across it. My throat tightened and the burning in the pit of my stomach returned and then I understood that it wasn't him that I smelled, but his blood. I felt my heart twist when I realized that I wanted to drink his blood and my stomach churned both in disgust and in anticipation because I couldn't really help if the scent of his blood smelled like the sugary baked tops of my mother's apple pies. I took a step forward and then another, followed by a third and a forth. The closer I went, the stronger the smell became but the doctor kept backing away from me – and that irritated me.

It happened in a blur. The doctor was quick to snatch up one of the silver knives from the floor and he held it out in front of him, brandishing it like a miniature sword. I giggled slightly, but I suppose the context made it sound much more sinister and malevolent because I heard his heartbeat speed up. I lunged and the doctor swiped at me, catching me on the arm but my hand gripped the wrist of the hand the knife was in tightly and I used my body weight to propel him backwards; his back hit the counter with a loud thud. I yanked on his wrist once and smashed it against the cupboard doors and he groaned, dragging the mangled wrist to his chest. A gruesome snarl split my lips and I opened my mouth, bringing his neck closer. I felt my gums itch and a foreign pulling sensation and then my teeth were buried in the man's throat. I could hear his gurgling screams, I could feel his adamant protests, but I just didn't care. The taste of his blood was pure and utter ecstasy. It was power.

I ripped my face away from his flesh with a gasp and dropped his lifeless body to the floor. Standing there with my chest heaving and the power still throbbing throughout my body I stared blankly at the wall for a period of time before I recognized the frantic shouts and thundering footsteps of men over head. I swallowed hard and glanced at the mirror above the sink, taking a startled step backwards when I caught sight of the reflection. There stood a young girl, broken into pieces by a man she carelessly trusted to hold her heart; a girl with a gore smeared mouth. And for the second time that night, I was wrong. I was no longer a girl.

What the hell have I become?

And then, I was gone.