Hi, guys! I'm back

(P.S. I've posted some pics of my characters on my deviantart account. So if you guys want to see how Desdemona, Circe, Gwen and everyone else looks like, visit my profile and click on the link. Oh, also I'm making a comic out of my story and it begin here in chapter 3 so read the fic and then check out the comic when I upload it, if you want to.)

Chapter Warning: cursing, sexual reference, mentions of violent, slight yuri (well not really but this is just a warning to people who might think it is)

EDIT: I re-wrote this chapter because I really didn't like the way it turned out, I felt that it made Circe too girly-girl which she isn't, and she isn't completely obsessed with Gwen (this isn't another Sierra, people) and she is bi, so she likes guys too. So I've change this chapter a bit, some parts new, some still the same. I hope you enjoy :)

o0o

Chapter 3

Doppelganger Danger

(Gwen's P.O.V.)

"In other news, last night, the Metropolitan Museum of Art became a scene of a horrific crime. The bodies of two missing children, eight-years-old Thomas Anderson and six-years-old Sarah Malloy, were found murdered on the front steps of the museum, next to a trail of disembodied limbs that officers believe to belong to several people ranging from the age of 17 to 49, all from different genders. Not only that but one of the night guards were killed and the others knocked unconscious. Inside, the museum seemed to be ransacked but none of the museum staff have reported anything missing or badly damaged..."

I turned off the tv and started walking around my room. The museum destruction were all over the news, each station reporting the same thing. Luckily, Desdemona completely trashed the video surveillance so there weren't any evidence of us being at that place. By the time I returned to the Tower, Chichi had already busted out the needle, thread, and tweezers and spent the next few hours removing every piece of glass and wood out of my skin.

After that, Chichi injected me with some heavy-duty anesthesia, personally made by her so it will affect me, and sent me to the lull-less void of sleep. By the time I came to, it was already 7:34pm, meaning I had slept through the entire day and right back into the darkness of night. My body was scrubbed clean and my stitches were redone, this time more secure then the last time.

Now I was alone in the tower; Chichi had left a note explaining that she had some 'errands' to run and won't be back until later. Father Tasker was also gone, left the state to visit some relatives in Phoenix for the birth of his niece. Normally, I would just get dressed, grab my weapons and start slaughtering, but I couldn't sense any demons nearby, none that where causing trouble anyway. And nothing good was on tv other than the destruction Desdemona and I caused and some reruns of old shows. All I could do was lean back on my bed and do nothing.

"TEAR DOWN THE WALLS! WAKE UP THE WORLD! IGNORANCE IS NOT BLISS!"

My eyes snapped open at the familiar lyrics screaming from my cellphone. Yes, I do have a cell phone, bought and paid for by the very person who programed Arch Enemy's We Will Rise as the ring tone for her calls. Also the person who was generous enough, and wealthy enough, to pay all the bills for it. I answered it.

"Ya know, when a gave you the phone, I was kinda hopin' you'd call me once in a while. Haven't heard your voice in a week. What the fuck, Gwenie-Girl?"

Cecilia Garica, or 'Circe' as most of the people called her, had been my best friend after my resurrection. Despite her harsh and vile language along with violence outbursts, she really is a nice girl underneath it all. And the plus side is that she isn't at all frightened of my undead state, although she did confuse me for a zombie when we met.

"Sorry, Ci," I replied, placing the phone closer to my ear, "It's been a busy week and I didn't want to burden you with my troubles."

"Yeah, because your 'boring' troubles dealing with demons and crazied psycho can't compare to the exciting world of homework and bitchy cliches of high school."

I rolled my eyes, "Your sarcasm is noted Circe."

"Sorry...anyway, did that winged harpy finally unlock the ball and chain she has on you or what?" asked the human girl.

Another fact about Circe, she had an extreme dislike for Chichi for the sole purpose of robbing me of a peaceful death. Well, that and keeping me away from my friends, the only people that can make me feel as if I'm living a normal existence. The feeling was mutual from my winged watcher as well, who could barely tolerate Circe and the others. Even though humans aren't suppose to know of my resurrection, there were no rules against it.

"Actually, Chichi is off running some errands and won't be back for some hours," I stated.

"So you've got time to kill," said Circe, "Come on, I doubt the world will end if you take one night off."

"Circe..." I said, before drifting off. God, when was the last time I did anything normal? Nothing I did classified as normal.

I hear a snort from the other end, "Don't try to use that B.S. parent tone, Gwenie-Girl, that's got no effect on me. Look all I'm saying is just come and have a little fun. There's a new cafe that's open downtown and it's practically empty right now."

"I don't eat, you know that."

"Didn't stop you before."

"That's cause I though I would have some tastebuds left in me," I retorted, "I was wrong."

"Come on, Gwen! Just half an hour, nothing gonna happen," begged Circe.

"Isn't today Thursday? Shouldn't you be studying or getting ready for school?" I asked, Circe was still finishing up her last few months of senior year in high school.

"Don't get your purple panties in a twist," she laughed, "Tomorrow is a teacher planning day so I got the entire night off. Plus, it's not like my parents care."

Even over the phone, I could feel and hear her voice cracked. Her parents were always a sore subject since they never were around, even when she was a baby. "Alright," I answered, "Just for an hour or so."

"Wahoo!" shrieked Circe, causing me to pull the phone away from my ear, "Finally! Alright, the cafe is called 'Temptations' and it's downtown near the east part of Lower Manhattan. I'll text you the address."

"Okay, thank you, Circe," I answered, getting up from the bed, "I'll see you later."

"Later, G!"

After the call ended, I toss the phone onto the bed started getting dressed. There wasn't much clothing in my closet, majority of them were ripped to shreds or they werent long enough to cover my stitches. After tossing out the rejects, I manage to find something to wear: a still intact corset top, a PVC skirt, leggings, and a pair of pumps I found in corner. Even though it was a moonless night, the city was still covered in lights so I felt better hiding my scars. Snapping on a choker necklace that Chichi gave me and a belt with a dagger and gun hidden inside, I climbed down the staircase, snatching a jacket off the wall hook, and walked out of the tower and into the bitter night.

o0o

Even in a place as crowded as New York, Circe had always been able to find good meeting places. Growing up in the City That Never Sleeps made her familiar with all the city's hiding places and secrets, places most people would be too scared to venture into. Then again, neither me nor Circe were like other people. Walking down the streets without fear of people seeing me was great relief for me, I didn't have to worrying about some nosy asshole recognizing me from Total Drama. That or a curious bystander seeing my thick stitchings and calling 911.

Temptations looked like every other trendy cafe in the area with modern furnishing, well lit and overpriced coffee and snacks. Though slightly gothic with it's paint job, it still gave that 'New York' feeling to it with people coming in and out, only a few staying to enjoy their drinks. Outside, were only three tables with the cafe's logo for anyone wanting to enjoy the breeze of the night. Circe was the only one siting out there.

Crossed legs and sipping coffee, Circe looked pretty content siting there in the dark streets of New York. Not that I blame her, her punk style looks and her glares could send anyone heading towards the opposite direction. Letting out a low whistle, I manage to get Circe attention; she immediately left her drink on the table to meet up with me.

"About time, Gwenie-Girl!" said Circe, hugging me, "Nice outfit, by the way."

Another thing I forgot to mention was that Circe is bisexual, and no, we're not together. Even though she did admit that she had a crush on me, she respects my decision that it would be better if she saw other people. Honestly, I don't having any problem with her sexuality, I'd just rather not go through another relationship that may not work in the end. That and her appearance.

Circe, like myself, is a loners due to her appearance. Auburn colored hair with red highlights, pale skin, dark eyes, multiple piercings and tattoos all over her body, she really was a rebel in her own sense. Yet despite all this, she was never really happy with how she looked for one simple and horrifying fact:

She looked just like Courtney.

For a moment, I thought that God was punishing me further or that, in some fucked up coincidence to meet another girl who could pass as Courtney's twin. We met in Central Park during one of my patrols. Apparently, Desdemona allowed her freakish imp children to run around the park, destroying statues and flowerbeds. Circe had been caught in the crossfire of my fight and almost got stabbed by those little freaks. Everywhere, these imps started crawling all over me like insects on a corpse. One even got a hold of my dagger and cut off my neck stitches, making Circe shriek in horror until I snapped the fucker's neck.

Only once I'd finished with reattaching my neck and burning the slaughtered bodies did Circe come out of her hiding place. She must have been pretty freaked out, so I started walking closer to her, trying to comfort her. And then I saw her face. I wanted to faint, to scream, even the world ending at the moment would have been better then that moment. I half expected for her to scream at me, call me a boyfriend stealer or pull out some kinda of PDA and call the authority.

But none of that happen, instead, Circe grabbed a fallen dagger that sat next to the tree she hid behind and chucked it at me; the aim was towards my head so I ducked. A sickening 'THUCK' and a squeal caused me to turn around in shock. A few inches where my head was, the dagger pierced the skull of an badly injured imp that had snuck up behind me and was now laying, dead.

"Hey," she said, "I'm Circe. Nice ass kicking!"

After that, we became friends.

Back to the present, Circe and I walked over to the table were her coffee was, along with a plate of cookies and crossiants laying there for consumption.

"Want some?" asked Circe, pushing the plate closer towards me.

"I don't eat, Circe," I answered.

"Again, didn't stop you before in the past," she replied, taking another gulp of her bitter drink, "Beside, any food you do eat will just become energy for you. Eat!"

Giving in, I took a cookie and started munching on it. In spite of her looks, I truly did adore Circe. She was muy first true friend in my afterlife, my protégé, and the sister I've always wanted. She understood the bitterness, the anger I possessed, and accepted it. She even had the patience of not getting pissed or upset on days I would give her the cold shoulder nor when I randomly snap at her.

A positive note, to me at least, about Circe is that although she looks like Courtney, she is a complete opposite of her. Circe loathed our system's corrupted government; the politics, the laws, the government officials and all the social order crap, just everything about it made Circe blood boil which is pretty ironic since she is a politician's kid. Riots are her thing, started fires in CEO offices, breaking and entering in laboratory, setting free all the animals; she never really hurts anyone, more likely she's a nuisance to authorities then a threat. But she had a good heart and I welcomed that.

"Hey, Gwen," said Circe, placing her coffee on the table, "I saw the news this afternoon. After the murders at the museum. I'm guessing that Little Miss Mona-Bitch's handiwork, huh?

"You are correct," I stated in my monotone voice, picking up another cookie and taking small bites. Nope, still can't taste anything. Really sucks being undead, can't taste anything, not sweet chocolate or bitter almonds, I can't even remember what some of the food taste like after death. Chichi told me that even if I did or didn't eat anything, I wouldn't gain any weight, so there's a plus side. Still sucks, though.

Wiping the crumbs off my fingers, I continued with my anecdote, "She didn't really do anything, just lectured me and sent her little imps to do her dirty work. That's pretty much all she's been doing for the past few months. Desdemona is smarter and stronger then I we give her credit for, even if she doesn't show it. It's almost as if she's not trying anymore. Desdemona used to attack me full force with the intent to destroy my body and drag my soul to Hell, but now...it's like killing me doesn't matter anymore."

"Should we consider this a good thing or a bad thing?" she asked.

I sighed, "I don't know. She keeps telling me to remember, but I have no clue what the hell I'm suppose to remember."

"Did'ja ask Chichi?" Circe sneered at my watcher's name.

"Chichi won't tell me anything, just avoids the question. Desdemona keeps telling me that we used to be friends, but I don't remember anybody like her," stated Gwen, "She tells me that in time, my memories will surface, my past will emerge and the reason for my death will come to light.' Pfft! Like any of that makes sense to me."

Circe laughed a bit, "Why is it that your life seems like some sort of horror/mystery novel while mine is just a boring high school drama?

I placed my elbows on the table and my chin rested in my hands, "Yeah. To think that almost three years ago, I was just a normal teenage girl, breaking up with Trent, losing my friends to fame, finding out my boyfriend was cheating on me...now look at me. I'm a walking corpse slaughtering demons and sinners under the orders of one of the most powerful forces in the universe. Sad part is I think this life is much easier then my other, I don't have to get emotionally attacted to much."

"'Cept your friends and caretakers," reminded Circe, "But we know how to take care of ourselves."

"I'm never going to rest in peace, am I?" asked Gwen, "I'm just going to be killing demon after demon until all this, whatever it is, is over. When will my job be complete? Why me?"

"Come on, Gwenie-Girl, don't get all philosophical on me," replied Circe, putting her drink down, "I'm not sure what the reason they choose you for this job, but it must have been a good one. Your special, Gwen, and I know you don't believe that, but you are. Don't you realize how many people you've saved, me included. Most people, when given the chance, would never be able to stomach the things you've done; they wouldn't be as selfless to give up their lives for the sake of others. You're a wonderful person, you've done mistakes, just like everyone else, that only makes you human."

"Thanks for the support," smiled Gwen, "But I'm still not going on a date with you."

"Wasn't really trying to, but that ain't mean I'm gonna stop," smirked Circe, tossing the last bit of her cookie in her mouth.

We both ended up laughing, Ci could act so serious yet her true motives were just so funny. Circe leaned back and went back to finishing off her drinks and eating the last bits of food of the plate, I just gave up on eating.

"I should be getting back..." I murmured, looking at the clock in the brightly lit cafe.

"Now? It's only been fifteen minutes!" exclaimed Circe, getting up, "Let's go to a club!"

"What? Seriously, Ci?"

"Come on! It will be fun! I know this great club in Downtown Brooklyn."

"That's a half an hour driver," I replied, "Pass the Manhattan Bridge and everything! Why go there tonight?"

"Why not? I wanna get total wasted and see the looks on guys faces when they slip a date rape drug in your drink and it doesn't effect you. Come on, Gwen! Please!"

Gwen huffed in defeat as Circe unleash her 'cute face' on her, "Fine. Beside, I can't really leave you alone. God, knows what will happen if I'm not there."

She cheered and hopped out of her chair, taking her jacket and purse from beneath the table. Ci then dragged me towards the street where she called for a taxi using her phone, yelling in both English and Spanish to the operator. The road was pretty deserted, save for a few parked cars out on the streets and lights from the apartments; it was a rare sight for New York to be quiet in any part of the state, I'd like those sights.

After a while, a familiar yellow cab stop in front of us, an elderly man sat behind the wheel. He was polite and greeted us warmly, a nice change from the creepy drivers that I've met over the years. Circe began giving direction to a adult bar in the uptown district, pointing out various avenues and streets to go through to get there.

We both leaned back when he started driving the cab, Circe played with her phone while I just stared out the window, watching the buildings. The driver, thankfully, took the long but desolated parts of town, that ways there would be less traffic and we would go unnoticed by people.

The lull of the more busier streets getting further and further away from us almost pulled me into dreamland. That was until the cab gave a large lurch foward. The driver honking the horn loudly as Circe and I banged my head against the glass of the taxi. Circe yelled out in pain, rubbing her head in an attempt to rid herself of her horrible headache. I looked up and saw a boy, not older then Circe or my age, just standing in the middle of the road, facing straight at us. He wasn't moving, didn't say anything, just blocking the taxi from moving.

"BOY! What on Earth are ya doing?" yelled the driver, his head poking out of the window, "Move, boy!"

The boy didn't acknowledge what the driver was saying, he just continue staring into the car and straight at me. Then I remembered the lesson on demons I read the day before; grabbing Circe by the arm, I pushed us onto the ground just as an elongated arm smashed though the windshield and the protective glass. Bits of shattered glass showered down our backs, my ears still ringing from Circe's screams. Looking up, the elongated arm slowly retreated from the car; the boy out on the street smirked as he retracted his arm, completely morphing into his demonic form.

"SHIT!" I hissed.

"What the fuck is that? yelled Circe, climbing out the wretched car, creeping up to the unconscious driver leaning over the steering wheel.

My eyes were trained at the created. An araneis. A shapeshifters that takes the appearance of adolescents and children in order to trap it's prey, leading them into a false sense of power of them. Legs and arms grew eight feet long, his body twisted itself upside down, the eyes turn pure black and large fangs grew from his deformed mouth, vemon flowing inside.

"Circe! Get out of the way!"

Both me and Circe, carrying the driver, jumped away from the car as the araneis landed on the hood of the cab, smashing the thing into the ground. The thing didn't care about Circe or the driver, he's eyes were completely glued onto me, hissing at me with every move I made. Screeching, the monster started swiping at me, I had to backflip to dodge them. Each attack cause smalled potholes in the concrete.

I yanked out my gun from my belt and took aim at it's head. Letting out two shots, I had missed his head on both, one hit a sign nearby, the other only grazed it's side. The araneis hissed before shooting a thick glob of web at me, engulfing my right arm to the gun. My finger pulled the trigger, however the web jammed the machine, making it useless.

"Fuck!" I screamed, tossing the thing to the ground and dodging another swipe.

"HEY! ASSFACE!"

A shot rang out along with a hiss of pain from the demon. Looking over it's sholder, I saw Circe, the driver a laying back still knocked out on some steps, pointing her own gun at the creature's head, managing to hit one of it's eyes. Did she had that thing early? Either way, she manage to hits the creature, somewhat blinding it. Unfortunate, the araneis was still accurate with it swing when it hit Circe, knocking her off her feet. I watched her body skid down a couple feet.

"CI!"

"I'm cool!" she yelled back, nursing her bloody knee, "Fucking hell, this hurts!"

My hand reached for my dagger, the only other weapon I had with me in my belt. I suddenly regret bring the gun with me, guns were noisy and they brought unwanted attention. No doubt my shots should have alerted someone to call 911. Blades, though took longer to properly kill, are silent and more swift to match my speed. Plus, it's difficult to trace a dagger when there is no serial number, no finger prints, and only dead skin cells from a missing person from another country.

While it was still distracted, I ran up and slashed my dagger into it's legs, sinking the metal into it's flesh, ripping it off. Blood splattered on my face, bits of skin hit my leg, the creature started shrieking in pain. It started smashing his clawed hands at me, nails dug right through the streets, but I manage to sidestep the attack by inches. The demon was getting impatience, reckless, blinded by anger, I had to kill this fucker soon or else there would be some mass destruction and most likely injuries.

More shots were aimed at the araneis, hitting both his legs, one began buckling under the pain. Tired of interference from a human, the araneis shot a think web at Circe, sticking her to the pavement. Screaming profanities at the beast, the punk girl struggled to free herself from the goo all the while I kept dodging web shots aimed at me.

"You okay, Circe?" I asked.

"When I get out of here, I'm putting that bastard's head on my mantelpiece," screamed Circe.

She's okay, mentally at least, though she'll have to ice her wound for a while. Another annoying swipe was aimed at me, but this one made contact, knocking into a nearby lightpost. I got up and cracked by back, straighting my spine. The araneis started charging at me and, at the last second, I jumped onto of it's back as it cracked it's head on the pole. Grabbing a fistfull of the ripped T-shirt it still had on, I hung on as it tried to throw me off; I wonder if this is want bull riders feel like.

Gripping the handle, I jammed the dagger into it's back; letting go of the fabric, I gracefully slid off the araneis' back, dragging the knife down it's back, exposing the innards. As if my ears weren't hurting enough, the beast started screeching at the top of it's lungs, probably silencing all of New York with it's wail. Blood and organs fell out of the wound and splatter all over the streets and onto the buildings, creating a grotesque painting all over the place.

Wiping the blood from my eyes, I dodged yet another swipe from the monster, skitting a few feet away. The monster was in extreme pain from the gashes and bullet wounds, but it was subborn and refused to died, which pissed me off even more. Running towards him, I slid under his swing this time and thrusted my dagger upward, digging the blade into the elbow bone. Yanking it out, I rolled before it dug it's injuried elbow into me. Partally blind and stupid, yet it's still standing.

Climbing onto it's back as it nursed it new wound, I shoved my hand down it's back wound and started digging into his flesh. Honestly, I played way too many Mortal Kombat videos, but I found it's spine and yanked it upward, trying to severe it. The araneis kept wailing, thrashing to and fro in pain and lifted one of his arms to hit me. However, his arm was blown apart, Circe had finally freed herself from her goopy prison.

With one last buckle, the thing toss me off it's back and onto the street pavement. Circe ran towards me, asking me if I was okay. I told her I was fine but I doubt she hear me over the loud wailing from the pathetic thing started limping away, it's body shrinking back into his teenage disguised and disappearing into an alleyway, leaving me, Circe and the still knocked out driver alone. Circe, however, wasn't having any of that.

"Hey! Get your fat ass back here, motherfucker!" screamed Circe, running after the demon.

"Circe! Don't! Get back here!"

Sadly, she couldn't hear me over the wailing of the araneis as she chased after it. Despite me and Chichi training her, she still has tendency to lose her cool when kill demons. Not that I don't blame her, I done it too. Besides, she was still a human and demons, no matter how weak the creature was, could easily kill her.

In the distance, police sirens started getting closer to the crash site while Circe was getting farther away from it, still running after the demonic being. Getting up, I checked to see the driver, still knocked out but breathing and then ran after my gun-toting friend. I was pretty surprised that I lost them both quickly despite the unnatural speed I possess.

After running for five minutes, I completely loss Circe's and araneis' trail and I was freaking out! God damn it! How does someone lose track of a wailing injured teen-demon and cursing, gun waving punk girl? Every corner I turned was either a entrance into a busy street or a dead end, yet there was no sign of them going wither way. Turning into another corner, I found myself into one of the more busted down ghettos of Brooklyn.

Kicking out a few broken beer bottles out of the way, I walked down the creepy empty lot until I was in front of a boarded up abandon warehouse. Windows were busted open or cracked, gang signs and profanity were graffitied across its outter walls, and even the front entrance didn't even lock. Pushing open the metal door, I peered inside the building. Everything was trashed: busted crates, broken glass, toppled over oil cans and years worth of dust floated around the air.

In the ground, I spied the telltale indentation of heel marks in the soft ground, drops of blood laid next to each dent. Following them with my eyes, the steps leaded towards the center of the warehouse, yet there was no Circe or anyother trail. It was almost as is the person walking inside disappeared in thin air. Jogging up to the last step, I kneeled down to examine the blood, still wet yet completely clean. If this was Circe's blood, there would be dirty from the pavement and pieces of skin.

"Circe," I called out, "Are you here? Circe!"

No response. Sigh, I picked myself up and dusted off the dirty from my knees. I took a long look around the place; beside the footsteps, it looked like no one had come around the place for many, many years. Kinda reminded me of some haunted place I've seen in thosc cheesy documentaries on the History Channel. But no time for that, I've got to find Ci...

"Bitch."

"Wha.." I turned around and scanned the room; there was no one hear, "Hello?"

"Hehehe..."

My hand reached for my dagger in my belt; gripping the hilt of the weapon, I prepare to attacking who or whatever was in this room. But instead of seeing a demon or spirit, I ended up clutching my ears as an horrifying shrieking screaming exploded throughout the entire building. Too loud! Too frickin' loud! The shrieking sounded like that of twelve banshees using a loudspeaker, it just chilled me to the bone and for the first time in a long time I felt the one emotion I hated: fear. Not only that, but I could register pain, mental shattering, bone breaking pain!

The voice got loudier, the emotion got angier and I wondering how no one outside had called the police yet. Everything was garbled, my brain couldn't understand want the voices, whatever they were, were saying or in what language they were saying it in. But then the words started getting clearer, but it wasn't one voice anymore, it was multiple. And I reconized them.

"Freak!"

"Why can't you just disappear?"

"Traitor!"

"You're nothing!"

"I trusted you!"

"How could you?"

"Trash!"

"I hope you burn in hell, witch!"

I kept clutching me ears, the voices, I can't stand them! All were dangerously familiar, I wanted to ignore them but they were just too loud, too pissed, too painful. My skin started getting hot, I'm dead, I shouldn't feel anything! I fell onto my knees and curled up into a ball, a pathetic way to escape the rising heat. The sounds of shattered glass and explosions rattled inside my head; this, along with the screaming, almost made me go deaf.

"Oh my god! What did we do! She's dead! Gwen! Gwen!"

"Gwenie-Girl! Gwenie-Girl!"

The voices stopped.

Unwrapping myself from my ball, I cautiously looked around the room. Still empty; no explosions, no fires, no insane heat, everything was as it was when I entired. In the distance, I could hear Circe calling out for me, using her nickname for me. My body return to it's numbing, unfeeling state, the pain was gone and I was like nothing ever happen.

'I couldn't have just imagined it,' I though, 'Could I?'

Shaking my head, I ran out of the warehouse, making sure there was distance from me and what ever haunted that place. Circe wasn't anywhere in sight yet I could still hear her voice, louder and more closer I can towards the alleyway. At the entrance, I could hear Circe voice clearly, however it wasn't next to me, behind or front. It was above. Looking up towards the fire escape of a nearby apartment, Circe was smiling down on me, sitting on the railing with one hand holding the railing for support while the other was waving around the decapitated head of the araneis.

"Check out my new trophy," she bragged, "Told you I'd put his head on my mantelpiece."

I sighed in relief, she was okay, "Great job, Ci. Definately an improvement from your last killing."

This time, she sighed, but in annoyance, "I told you, I had idea that the gun was faulty! But you gotta admit, to see that bullet ricocheting all over the walls then go through that imps head was awesome!"

"Yeah, until the neighbors began calling the cops and we had to spend an hour on a high speed car chase just to lose them," I replied in my normal monotone voice, "Not to mention that the car wasn't our."

"Calm down, GG," said Circe, jumping off the roof and into my arms, "The car belong to a drug dealer and that crack-head was locked up when we jacked it so I doubt he'll missed it."

I placed her on the ground as she took hold of the head, grabbing it's hair, and hoisted it over her shoulder, ignoring the blood seeping into her clothing. Glancing at the severed neck, I analyzed the cut and slash marks that Circe did on his neck. Slightly messy, uneven, some too deep, others not deep enough, either way, it took a multiple amounts of slashing to complete severed the head. But all in all, not a bad hit for still trainning amateur.

"An improvement," I stated, "But the cuts need work, it's too random, you need to increase your pressure on your blade. Try to target in on one point and home in on it. Makes for a cleaner and quicker kill."

"I can stop by on Saturday for target pratice if that's okay with you," she asked.

I nodded, "That's fine. Come on, let's go home. I don't think blood-stained clothes are nightclub attire."

o0o

I can honestly say that I'm pretty jealous of Circe's lifestyle. Her family was one of those high-class, wealthy and extremely powerful families of New York; their family mansion stood at the edge of Long Island and loomed over all the other homes with a intimidating shadow, sometimes scarying the crap out of the others. Circe would always invite me over, saying that it's always empty save for a few maids here and there and the occasional disappearing/reappearing butler.

By the time we got there, it was already passed midnight, the mansion was completely empty thus making it even freakier and more frighten then when it was filled with people. It was protected by a tall, cement and wire made fence with two entrance doors with the best high class security system money can buy. Pulling out a key card, Circe swiped the card in the key pad and open the double doors.

"I'll call you later," I said.

She smirked, "You better."

Giving me one last hug, Circe started jogging up the path, her new 'trophy' bouncing up and down her back with each step she took. The blood had long since drained from the head but that didn't mean skins and brain matter didn't stop from falling out. Though I doubt she even notice it, she was too proud of her new, more successful, kill.

Over the horizen, the sun started peeking through, signaling the end of the night and the beginning of the new day. Turning at my heels, I started running, not caring about my heels. Heels, sneakers, boots, they're all the same to me and they don't matter since death prevents pain from running with them on. The scenery flew past me like a movie on fastfoward, blurs of color and sound pierced my sight and hearing, I felt like I was flying and then I made it home in under ten minutes.

Entering the tower, I found that Chichi still hadn't return from wherever errand she was doing, leaving me alone in the tower. Kicking off my heels, tossing them to the side of the ground room, I started climbing up the stairs and into my room. However, when I took that first step inside, I felt like I was being watched. Pulling out my dagger, I slowly scanned the room, walking slowly, not making a sound. Everything looked untouched and all my stuff was were it was suppost to be, yet I couldn't shake the feeling that I was being watched.

TAP TAP TAP

I quickly turned, dagger ready, towards the sound which came from a window. I then sighed in annoyance and opened it, letting the criminal inside. A raven. It was a beautiful bird with dark onxy feathers and even darker eyes. I watched it flew across my room before making itself comfortable on my nightstand then went back to staring at me. I shrugged my shoulder then stripped away my bloody clothings.

'Wish I could go one week without coming back here soaked in blood,' I thought, remembing all the outfits I stainned with that metallic-tasting crimson liquid.

I, once again, took another shower, though I kinda felt akward with the raven still staring at me, even with the door closed. Though I kept reminding myself that it was just a bird and nothing else, though something inside me was screaming to kill the pretty bird. Drying myself off, I still stole glances at the animal while changing into my pjs. As I slipped into the covers of my bed, the bird finally flew out the window and into the sky. Though for some reason, I could hear a deep toned voice chuckling and then I thought back to the voices at the warehouse.

'Must be imaging things,' I thought as I drifted away to yet another dreamless sleep, never noticing the raven flying back into the room continuing to stare at me.

o0o

(Unknown P.O.V.)

"Mom, dad, I'm home," called out Circe.

Silence.

The young girl sighed in disappointment as she toss her bag onto one of the chairs in the hallway. No one was ever home, not for Circe at least. Mother was probably at one of her meetings while her dad was busying with work. Life alone was bitter and sad for her, she couldn't even remember one memory of her parents being there for here, her childhood was filled with complete strangers: nannies, babysitters, bitchy tutors and other relatives, but none of her parents. Sometimes Circe wonder if they even knew they had a daughter.

'They probably don't know anything about me,' thought Circe, 'I don't even know why I bother calling out for them.'

The Palace de Garcia, as her superficial aunt called it, is known as Long Island's most prized asset to New York's history of wealthy and influential families. The Garcias were the top dogs of their state, the family tree going back centuries, all the way back to the first pilgrim settlement and through the royal families of the Tutors and the Normandy. In short, Circe and her family were treated as royalty by the state.

And, oh, how she HATED it! Being treated as if she was glass, so delicate, like she couldn't do anything for herself less she fall apart. People always babied her, gave whatever she asked, even the most stupid things like a limo painted black and white with gold rims on the wheel for her tenth birthday when she couldn't even fuckin' driver! And they showered her with unending affection. But even as a child, she knew that all these people wanted from her was money and fame.

Families who were friends with the Garcias had powerful connections, instant fame and were just as gossiped about as her family was and that wasn't very ofte;, the Garcias are very picky about who they associated with. Even some of the media's most popular celebrities had difficulty trying to connect with her family, much less be around them. That's why all of Circe's classmates tried to be her 'friends,' to check out her home, her stuff and her money. It was only when she turn sixteen that she finally snapped.

She dyed her formally Vegas gold painted room black, stored all her fancy-smancy furnishing down in the basement and replaced everything with dark, gore and creepy goth stuff. She didn't allow any of the bastard that dare call them her 'friends' near her, much less her house, gave away her expensive clothing to GoodWill, started dressing in bloody red corset and short skirts, and developed a vile attitude. Although the remodeling of her personality did make her feel a bit happier, it still didn't make up for the empty void in her heart.

One September night, Circe had gotten so fed up, that she stormed out the house, threatening and cursing anyone if they come and find her. Once again, her parents cancelled another family dinner, the sixty-seventh dinner they cancelled on her. Every single time she made plans for their parents to get together, it was always 'I'm too busy' or 'Something came up at work,' excuse after excuse. Had it not been for the portraits and pictures in the hallways, Circe might not even know what her parents looked like! They just were never there for her.

Central Park is just as beautiful at night as it was in the day, at least to Circe. The flowers, statues, fountains and lakes shone underneath the moonlight, surronding them in an errie glow. Finding a nearby beach, the punk girl lean down and started taking deep breath before letting herself fall into sobs. It wasn't fair, why couldn't her parents just be there for her just once? She didn't give one damn about being rich, it was worthless to her; money didn't love her or cared for her, and aparrently, neither did her parents.

After crying for a good hour, Circe dried her tears and started heading towards the exit. That's when the imps attack. At first, she confused them for rabid squirrels or some type of lizards until they came closer and saw that they weren't anything of this Earth. Fearing her life, she started running, those things closing behind her, gurggling and talking in gibberish yet their tones were in demented happiness. Circe didn't want to die and she started praying for an angel to come a save her.

And then Gwen showed up and saved her.

Gwen was the only one who truly cared for her. The undead goth had been so sweet and kind to her, not to mention beautiful. Yes, Circe is bisexual, having a total of six ex-boyfriends and two-ex girlfriends. It wasn't as if she was untolerable in a relationship, the problem was finding someone who understood her and her problems as well as she did. Most guys her age only cared about getting into her skirt and the girls she knew only blabbed on and on about guys, prom nights and how to lose eight pounds in two days. That and they were in love with Circe's money, not her.

But Gwen wasn't like that; money meant nothing to her and Circe's wealthy didn't change her opinion about cared about Circe, she really did and Circe was estatic to finally have a friend. A real friend. Someone who didn't use her for her money or her family's connections, no, Gwen wanted to be her friends because she liked her and she was special, not for her family but for herself. To Circe, it felt as if God was finally granting all her wishes. Even if they weren't dating, Gwen still made Circe felt the one emotion she craved for her whole life:

Love.

Traveling down the entrance's hallway, Circe climbed up the gold painted grand staircase, up towards the second floor, and turned left to another lengthy hallway. Acrylic portraits of her parents and her ancestors hung on the walls, their dark eyes staring down on her, tiny tables that held fragile vases, lamps and a phone also decorated the brightly lit gold and red hallway as well as the old victorian-styled grandfather clock. Everything was fashionable decorated except for the dark painted purple door that horribly clashed with the color scheme.

Opening said purple door, she entered the dark sanctuary that was her beloved room. Queen size gothic bed dominated the entire bedroom, her vanity rest at the opposite end of the wall, littered with black perfume bottles, makeup containers and various other girl things. She had tiny chinese paper lanterns hung up on her ceiling, two closets and a dresser in between them, a modern styled bathroom and a large balcony that looked over the front entrance and beyond, into the roads and lands that led to the other mansions on the island.

Stripping off her clothings, Circe took a quick shower to scrub awat the blood and dirt from battle, dress her wounds then changed into her lacy black and red, floor length nightgown. She release her hair from its ponytailed bondage and jumped onto her bed, snugging into the soft comforter. The room was silent as she pulled a pack of matches from her nightstand and lit the vanilla scented candles on said nightstand, filling the air will the sweet aroma.

Suddenly, the door creaked open. Acting on impulse from all of her training, she pulled a gun hidden under her pillow and pointed at the door, locked and loaded, ready to shoot. Her eyes widen at the intruder. She began cursed herself for being so stupid and thanked God that she didn't pull the trigger. Circe shoved the gun back under her pillow and crawled towards the edge of her bed and looked closely at her 'intruder.'

Her pet fox.

"Hey Mr. Muffin," cooed Circe to her kit, scooping him up from the floor and placing him onto her lap, "Did you have a good day?"

"Yip," replied the baby fox, rubbing his face into Circe's stomach.

"I had a good day, too," said Circe, "I got to see Gwen again and we got to kill a demon. She looked so beautiful when she kills, Mr. Muffin."

The tiny fox continue rubbing up against his mistress, mewing so sweetly. Circe patted Mr. Muffin on the head before crawling under the covers and placing her head on her feather-stuffed pillow. Her fox cub followed close behind, going under the covers as well and popping out on the other side. , as he was named, hopped on one of the many pillows Circe's bed had and made himself comfortable.

Circe watched as her fox, clawed at the pillow and then curled up into a ball and fell instantly to sleep. His owner smiled and lifted her pillow to reveil, not just her gun, but a small pitcure. Centered in the photo was of her and Gwen, decked out in clubbing dresses, posing in the middle of a rave that she and Gwen snucked out to go to almost three months ago. That was a good day for her, mostly cause she had Gwen to herself all night .

The grandfather clock in the hallway started to chime, signalling 1 a.m. in the morning. Deciding that school was no longer an option due to her injuries, Circe made a mental note to forge a doctor's note for next week when she got back. Blowing out the candles and resting her head on her pillow, Circe closed her amber eyes and began taking in the aroma of vanilla from the melted wax.

"Night ," yawned Circe, "Night Gwenie-Girl, sweet dreams."

o0o

Deep inside the crevasses of Hell, a familiar skull dressed female was walking across the control room of her palace. In front of her were hundreds upon hundreds of camera, all of them focus on certain specific person, place, event or time period. Half of those camera were mainly focused on young Gwendolyn's life: her birth, her childhood, her family, her birthdays, her past lovers, her time on that acursive television show and, the most damning of them all, her death which was being replayed over and over on the main screen.

Then suddenly, the screen turned to static then came back on, but instead of replaying Gwen's death, it showed the inside of Gwen's tower room with Gwen just arriving. The screen showed the undead goth begin stripping off her clothing until she was in her bra and panties then she discarded them as well. Her nude body was then plastered all over the screens.

"What are you doing," asked Desdemona in an annoying tone of voice.

"Enjoying the show."

The young demon women sighed, "Your disguisting, you do realize that. Your lustful nature, your envious plans and your over-all vanity is such an atrosity that I don't even believe I can properly describe it."

"Lighten up, Moni. I'm just looking, I'm not hurting her. Yet anyway. The things I could do to her...the damage I can commit..."

"Ugh! Your disgusting!" she exclaimed, storming out of the room, "And to use our pet ravens's sight as a camera, vile!"

"Now, now, Desdemona," whispered the voice, though his tone was enough to frighten the demon girl, "There's no need to be a bitch."

"I...a...apologize," she studdered, trying to even her breath.

Before she opened the door, she turned back at the half-Abaddon demonic male resting comfortable on a velvet chair in front of the screens. His eyes glued to the screen as he watched Gwendolyn walk across the room in all her naked, blood-stained glory. Poor thing probably didn't know she was being watched. In his hand was a glass cup that held a large amout of red liquid. Blood.

"She will be mine," he answered, taking a sip of his drink, "I always get what I want."

"So you do," she whispered, "My dear brother."

o0o

yep, Desdemona has a brother, watch out!

doppelganger:

- a ghostly double of a living person that haunts its living counterpart

I know that this is what a doppelganger is but there are also human doppelgangers as well, ya know 'look-a-likes.' However Circe and Courtney are almost exactly alike, down to their body measurements and everything. The only difference is their personalities.

Originally, Circe wasn't suppose to be bisexual but I got inspired by Jason Kreuger Myers's Total Alternate Island characters, Sara and Laura, and by one of my friends who is bisexual. Plus, there are a lot of yuri pairing between females here and it's getting really popular.

Also, I really like the friendship Gwen and Courtney had during TDWT (even though I dislike the CIT, sorry Courtney fans) so I made Circe to sorta replace that friendship. I'm not sure if I'm going make they get together, I'll let you guys decide that, but for now, Circe is just Gwen's friend and protégé. Also, next chapter there will be more hints about Gwen's past and her death as well as a cameo from a former Total Drama contestant you're all familiar with.

NEXT: Chapter 4 - Curiouser And Curiouser

Please Read & Review! I want to hear your thoughts on this so far. Love it. Hate it. What to change something? Tell me!

EDIT: Hi guys, hope the rewrite was more to your liking :) and it was beta read by different people so hopefully there are no grammer errors. I'm still wokring on my comic and I hope to get something done during this summer. Wish me the luck, oh! And R&R for this new, rewritten, chapter, please.