Chapter 8: The Persuasion (Part 1)

Two small shadows were in a dark forest. One was on the ground with his knees hugged to his chest, while the other crouched down to his level, in order to look into his wide, dazed eyes.

"They are going to bring her today."

"…"

"Christopher Robin, did you hear me?"

"Alice…?"

"Yes, Chris?"

"…Have you seen my bear?"

Belle moaned and tossed her head side to side. She could feel herself begin to wake up, but she didn't want to. She had just come home from the hospital a day ago, after a week of shots, and some counseling, due to her little revelation on "Pinocchio", if that was its real name. She was lucky enough that the doctors had deemed her mentally stable enough for her to be released.

After a run in with a ghost, a few corpses, and one jerk of a police officer, Belle thought she was worthy of sleeping as late as she wanted.

Unfortunately, someone in her bedroom didn't feel that way.

She cringed as she heard another object be thrown on the floor. It had been going on for a while now and it was starting to get her pissed off. She secretly hoped that it was Lady, because if it was that Mael jerk, she swore she would kick him where the sun "don't shine", if the reader will forgive her improper grammar.

Belle snorted slightly, smirking with something akin to deviance. Perhaps that's what she should do the next time she saw him. That way the bloodline of jerks would end with him.

She was brought out of her musings when she heard a voice cry out in the room.

"Jeez, doesn't this woman have something other than romance…? Ugh, gross."

This comment was immediately followed by another of her books falling to the floor. As it did, Belle felt even angrier.

Seriously, who was this guy?

No, not even a guy—it was a kid.

A kid she was certain she didn't know, but she didn't feel like reprimanding for breaking into the house, at least not until her mind got clearer.

She growled as the voice went on again.

"I can't believe that Pinocchio isn't even here! Damn little midget, forcing me to wait, and all because he's 'older than me' too. Bah!"

That made Belle's eyes snap wide open.

She sat up so quickly that she almost got whiplash. When she did, she immediately spotted a tall, but young boy in front of her bookcase, tossing book after book over his shoulder, his face twisted into expression of disgust and scorn. She blinked her eyes some more and focused her eyes on the kid enough to take in his appearance.

He had red hair and green eyes. He looked to be about in his early teens, if not younger. His clothes consisted of a pair of jeans, Converse sneakers, a navy duster, and a t-shirt. His stance was cocky and proud, like most boys his age.

Belle snorted bitterly, not really registering the situation. The kid probably hadn't even hit puberty yet, and he was insulting her choice of literature. What did he read anyway, comic books?

…

Wait…

Belle's eyes widened as the image of that corpse came to mind. She felt her heartbeat quicken and her lips parted before she could control her voice.

"YOU!"

The boy jumped and immediately turned his head to look her, his expression scared one minute before calming down. He narrowed his eyes slightly at her, tilting his head to one side curiously.

"You can actually see me?" he asked softly.

Belle was too shocked to respond vocally. Her mouth hung open in a gape as she stiffly nodded. All she could think about was the image of the dead boy. She knew that the kid standing in front of her was him, though she never saw his dead face. She recognized him from his photo, the picture that had been put up in the newspaper next to the article that had been written about the murder.

The boy—what was his name again? Peter?—smiled and kicked off the ground, floating towards her.

Yes, you read right—floating.

Oh…my…God…

Belle suddenly felt lightheaded.

"Wow," he breathed when he was in the air. "So it's really true, you can see us," he chuckled. "You know I didn't really believe Pinocchio when he told me, but now that I've seen the proof, well…" Smiling, he shrugged.

A strangled sound was released from the back of Belle's throat as he managed to sit down Indian style in front of her—in the air!—just staring and observing her. Though he wasn't that close to her face, she cringed back and crawled against the headboard anyway, trying to get away, while also trying to make sense of the whole thing.

Because this boy—this particular boy—should not be here. He should be in a morgue or something, getting ready to be embalmed and buried at his funeral—after the police got whatever evidence they could from his body, of course. Belle knew all that, but the evidence in front of her showed that that wasn't the entire case.

And though she felt scared, she also felt an underlying anger.

Why the hell wouldn't these ghosts leave her alone?

"Hey, are you okay?" Peter Pan asked, his brow creasing.

Belle's eyes widened further and her mouth parted, releasing her choked sound. Finally, she took in a huge breath.

Peter's eyes widened, as he already anticipated what would come. He started waving his hands at Belle, trying to calm her down.

"Wait, please don't—"

"AAAGH!"

"…Scream."

With her scream released, she felt slightly calmer—in fact, too calm. Her eyes felt heavy and her head felt light. With a final swoon, she flopped back down on her bed.

Peter blinked a few times, bemused, then floated over to the unconscious young woman's side, and proceeded to press one of his fingers to her ribs. When he realized how deep in her renewed sleep she was, he began to panic slightly, and he started poking her a little more roughly.

"Hey, come on lady, get up…please?" he pleaded softly.

Belle's soft sleepy moans were his only answer.

"This isn't funny, not at all. If Pinocchio sees you like this, with me here, then—well, let's just say it won't be pretty."

He broke off into nervous chuckles, which quickly died as he let out a soft frustrated groan and ran a hand through his hair.

"Well, that could have gone better."

"…Yes, it could have."

Peter froze, swallowed, and then stiffly turned around to see Pinocchio leaning against the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest. His cool eyes were narrowed mischievously as a sly smile adorned his face. Sitting right beside him, her muzzle drawn back into a protective snarl, was Lady.

"Pinocchio," Peter greeted nervously, and, when hearing a growl from Lady, he added, "And…dog."

"Heya Pete," Pinocchio returned, an eyebrow quirked. "Care to explain what happened?"

The taller ghost boy smiled shakily down at his short superior, and started laughing nervously as he sputtered out his explanation. However, no matter whatever excuse he could come up with, Peter Pan knew that he was busted.

Crap.

VVVVVV

Belle woke up to voices that seemed to be arguing, but, out of fear and paranoia, she didn't open her eyes.

"I can't believe you!" exclaimed a familiar sounding little boy. "What were you thinking coming here, Pete?"

"Well," began a sly sounding voice, "I was thinking of meeting this lady, just to see it for myself."

"…And you thought that was okay?"

"Yeah…at least until she fainted, anyway…. But I didn't know she'd do that, I swear!"

"Well what did you expect? She just saw your body a week ago, dumb ass."

"…I didn't expect her to faint though."

Belle heard the first little boy groan, and she could have sworn she could picture him pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Pan, you are absolutely hopeless sometimes…"

"Oh, right, because you're so much easier to live with, Pinoke."

It was at this time that Belle chose to open her eyes and sit up a little in her bed. Her vision was a little groggy at first, so the first two things she saw were two blurry figures. One was tall and seemed to have red hair, while there was a smaller blur that looked more familiar to her.

As the argument between the two blurs continued, Belle's vision became clearer. Her eyes widened and her breathing got shallow.

Dear fucking God, WHY?

"Actually, I've learned from many that I'd be a very amiable person to live with," the smaller boy said, a hint of smugness in its voice. "Unlike a certain little brat I could mention."

"…You know what, Pinocchio?"

"…What, Pete?"

"Fuck you."

A scoff. "And here I thought you didn't curse."

"Well, there's no real point anymore since I'm dead, so I can cuss all I want now. So: Fuck. Fuck, fuckity, fuck, fuck."

"Oh, quoting South Park. How original."

Peter smirked and held up his index finger, wagging it side to side. "Ah-ah-ah, not just South Park, but the South Park movie."

Pinocchio groaned softly and rolled his eyes, his gaze quickly landing on a quivering, wide-eyed Belle sitting on the bed. He smiled brightly at her as he rushed over to her. Peter quickly took notice of this also, but stood back, his stance looking hesitant.

"Belle, you're awake," he said. "That's good. I was a little worried for a minute there…"

"Get out."

Pinocchio blinked at her. "Pardon?"

Belle pointed at her door with a shaking finger. "Please, get out," she said tightly.

The ghost boy's eyes softened with compassion. "Belle, I know you're upset…"

"Upset?" Brown eyes glared at him. "I'm not upset. I just think that I'm going crazy! I've been visited by a ghost, who I thought was a real boy. I've been hit on the head too many times to count—I'm lucky enough not to have brain damage. I've seen a corpse, the corpse of a kid—something I hoped never to see in my life! And now, I'm being haunted by two ghosts, who won't leave me alone!"

Pinocchio bit his lip. "Belle, I—"

Belle turned her head away, blatantly ignoring his pleading face. "Just get out of here, the both of you." She looked pointedly at Peter, who scowled at her in return.

"Fine," Peter bit out. He immediately phased through the floor and was gone.

Only Pinocchio stayed and continued to stare at her with an illegible facial expression. Belle glared harder at him and pointed to the door.

"Didn't you hear me? I said get out!"

"I heard you," he replied in a monotone voice.

His lack of a reaction made her even angrier. "Then why aren't you moving?"

"I just wanted to talk to you."

"Well, I don't wanna talk. Leave!"

He gave her a hard look, his eyes narrowed. "You know, I didn't make you follow me. In fact, I didn't even ask. You did that to yourself, Belle."

"…What're you saying?"

"I'm saying; don't blame others when your own actions are the ones that brought you problems."

She flushed angrily. "Just get out."

Pinocchio shrugged. "Fine."

With that said, he then phased through the floor and left.

Belle waited a few beats, as if expecting him to come back, and then she sighed with relief. Lady hopped onto her lap and nuzzled her chin comfortingly. Belle smiled down at her and petted her on the head. As she ran her fingers through her beloved dog's fur, her eyes couldn't help but linger on where Pinocchio had been standing. Finally, still holding Lady, she stood up from the bed and looked down at the dog in her arms.

"Come on Lady, let's take a walk."

Surprisingly, Belle's walk went on without a problem—at first, anyway. No one in Fantasia stopped to ask her about "the body", and no one asked why she had been in Skull that night. She had had enough of that during the police interrogations, where she had to make her statement, so she was happy not to encounter such an experience again.

However, it wasn't as if Belle didn't get the occasional suspicious, paranoid stare that would make her cringe and turn her eyes ahead, avoiding all possible eye contact. It didn't really shock her that she would be getting some looks from these small town strangers. It had been about a week since Peter's body had been found. It was practically natural for most, if not all, of the townspeople to know about her.

Belle eventually came to ignore the stares though, deciding to keep moving forward instead. There was no specific location to Belle's and Lady's journey. Belle just went wherever her legs took her, and Lady followed via her blue leash. It was a sort of "leave it up to fate" thing, since Belle was too distracted by her thoughts to care about where she was walking.

So it was really no surprise a few hours later, when she eventually realized that she and Lady had ended up at a cemetery.

Belle blinked, looking and feeling bemused as she observed the now somber surroundings. She quickly noticed what looked like a faraway blot of black among the tombstones on top of a hill. When she walked closer though, she realized that it was a group of mourners at a funeral—ironic, since the weather was nice, instead of the typical dreary rain depicted in movies.

A gray haired priest with hollow cheeks and a baritone voice was delivering the burial rites, his hands spread out forward as he spoke.

Next to him were a well-dressed, wealthy looking couple and a young blonde woman, who had dark circles under her blue eyes. Belle inferred that they were the family of the deceased.

After them was another family, this one featuring a young, sobbing girl—probably about twelve years old—with curly brown hair and blue eyes, a little brown haired boy who looked about four (who was clutching his sister's hand with one of his own, while holding a teddy bear with the other), and another young boy with glasses over his eyes, who must have been a year or two younger than the girl.

Then there was a Native American man with (presumably) his daughter, who stared forward with her chin up proudly, as if refusing to shed a tear.

As Belle eyed the girl, she quickly realized that the girl saw her as well, and she froze.

The Native American girl stared at her, her dark eyes twinkling with stoic knowledge, and yet, there was a silent accusation in those eyes as well…

How could you turn them away?

"Black is not her color."

Belle jumped at the broken voice behind her. When she turned to face the owner though, she relaxed when she saw Peter standing there.

Then she mentally kicked herself for feeling relief at seeing a ghost, as if it was normal.

She wanted to ignore him, but against her better judgment, Belle spoke to him softly, "I beg your pardon?"

Peter regarded her with dull eyes, and, with a slight shrug, he nodded his head towards the crowd.

"The girl over there, with her little brothers—the color black doesn't do her justice. I always liked blue on her more; it matches her eyes you see." He smiled sadly, "I don't hold it against her though. Wendy's always been more of a traditional sort of girl."

Belle glanced at the burial, then back at him. "This is your funeral."

He inhaled deeply, though Belle doubted he really needed to. "Yep."

There was a bit of an awkward silence between them, since neither knew what to say to each other. Belle half-expected him to yell at her about her treatment of him and Pinocchio, and she almost wanted to yell at him for invading her space once again. But she knew that now wasn't the time, not when Peter was just feet away from his body. Belle couldn't imagine what the kid was feeling at the moment.

"I thought there would have been more people here," she finally said. "I mean, from what I've heard, everyone's upset about your death."

"The majority of them already paid their respects last night, at my…wake," he choked slightly. He cleared his throat and continued, "I'm actually glad that there are not that many now. I mean, it's bad enough my friends saw my body yesterday—I don't need them to see me buried as well. I think it would be too much for them. I know it would be for me, if I was in their place. I didn't even think they made coffins in my size."

Belle looked at Peter, sympathy and compassion in her eyes. He really was just a kid, she reminded herself as she looked at him—a punk ass kid with a "nothing can touch me" attitude to boot, but a kid none-the-less. Though he was nearly taller than her, Belle couldn't help but take in his young, childish face—the face of one who had died too young.

"…I'm sorry."

"It's fine. It's not like you were the one who killed me," Peter added bitterly.

There was an awkward pause after that—long enough for Belle to notice the dry tear streaks on the ghost's face.

Well, no duh—of course he would be crying. He's seeing himself get buried for God's sake!

Someone had to change the subject fast, Belle realized as she cleared her throat.

"So, why don't you tell me about them—the people here, I mean?"

"…Sure—why not?" Peter shrugged, but looked grateful nonetheless as he pointed at his family first. "That's my mom and dad. If you ever meet them, don't let first impressions fool you—they aren't as uptight as they seem. I used to think they were just a bunch of jerks who wanted to push me and my sister to fit into their standards, as a displacement of their disappointment for not living the life they wanted when they were young.

"Next to them is my sister, Tinkerbell—my childhood bodyguard, as well as the only person who understands me. She went to the city a year ago, because she said she was 'suffocating' in Fantasia. I wanted to go with her, but I'm—was under the custody of my parents. To live with her would have not only caused some legal bull, but also an even bigger rift between us and our parents—so, she left me to stay here. I understand though, so I'm not too angry at her.

"That girl from before is Wendy Darling—my next door neighbor, the best story teller I've ever met, and one of my best friends. Her brothers are John and Michael—your typical know-it-all, and cute, but not all that bright duo.

"The girl next to them is Tiger Lily. She and the rest of her family live at the Iroquois reservation not too far from here. She's a quiet one, but she's the best listener you will ever find. Of course," he chuckled slightly, "she's also brutally blunt sometimes, especially when you make an ass of yourself—she does it out of love though…sometimes."

Belle smirked slightly. "There seem to be a lot of girls in your life."

"What can I say?" Peter mirrored the playful tone, pointing to his chest. "I'm a pimp."

As the two of them chuckled, Belle noticed the girl Tiger Lily looked away from the priest and looked Belle's way again. Peter noticed, smiled, and gave a small wave. Tiger Lily smiled slightly and nodded in acknowledgement, and then she went back to listening to the sermon.

Belle blinked. "She can see you."

"Eh, a little bit." He shrugged. "According to her, she just mostly sees a blur that is barely recognizable, and she can't hear me speak unless I possess a toy and speak through it."

Her eyes widened. "You can do that?"

"Oh, yeah—Pinocchio taught it to me. He says it's helpful when talking to a possible medium." He looked at Belle. "You're the only medium I've met (so far) who can actually perceive me and Pinocchio with all five senses, without us using possession."

Belle stared at him. "You make it sound as if I'm special."

"You are—at least, according to Pinocchio, anyway."

She cringed slightly, feeling guilty at how she had yelled at the younger looking ghost boy.

"Is he…upset with me?"

Peter shrugged. "Not sure. The guy can be a little hard to read sometimes. And anyway, he's out visiting the Blue Fairy, so I'm not really sure."

"Who's the Blue Fairy?" Belle asked.

The boy paused, and then lifted himself to float over her head, lying down on his side in the air. He propped his arm to rest his chin on his palm and looked down at Belle.

"Honestly, I don't know; I've never met her. I've only been dead for a short while, so my knowledge of the 'other side' is somewhat limited to whatever little things Pinocchio's told me. From what I could tell though, she seems to be the one in charge of all the ghosts who haven't moved on. She keeps track of them; makes sure they aren't stirring up trouble in the living world, crap like that."

She hummed, and nodded. I suppose that makes sense. I just can't help but wonder about the odd name though.

"I wouldn't worry about stuff like that now if I were you, though."

Belle looked up at him. "Why's that?"

"Because your dog's gone."

"…WHAT?"

She looked at her hand and realized that it was void of Lady's leash, and ergo Lady herself. Belle then walked away from Peter, calling out for her dog's name with something akin to panic lacing her voice.

She didn't notice Peter watching her, his mischievous smirk widening before he gradually faded from sight.

Eventually, as Belle ran around the cemetery calling for Lady, she found her voice to be joined by a male voice.

"Damn it, Tramp, where are you?"

And before she could register it, Belle turned a corner and collided with the owner of said voice, almost stumbling backward at the impact. Luckily, a pair of strong arms caught her and quickly drew her to a strong, muscled chest before she fell to the ground. Flushing slightly at the close contact, Belle looked up at the person, and her eyes immediately widened with recognition.

"You," she hissed.

Mael just arched an eyebrow, smirking slightly. "And you."

It was then Belle noticed their position, and she jumped away, flushing with embarrassment, as well as anger from how hard she was glaring.

"What are you doing here?"

He replied, "I could ask you the same thing."

"I was going on a walk, like a normal person, along with my," Belle gasped, remembering, "Lady!"

On cue, said dog walked out from behind a tombstone, dragging a blue leash in tow. She saw Belle right away, barked happily, and then ran towards her. Beaming, Belle crouched down and hugged her dog when she stopped. She petted Lady's fur lovingly.

"Don't ever run away from me again, okay," Belle admonished. "I was so worried."

Mael rolled his eyes at her, inadvertently glimpsing a hint of gray fur poking out from behind a tombstone. He turned around and looked intently at the spot.

"Tramp," he said domineeringly. "Come out."

A big gray dog with a maroon collar slowly walked out from behind the same tombstone as Lady. He looked at his owner sheepishly, his muzzle upturned into a slight smile. Despite that sounding annoyed, Mael smirked at his dog and beckoned him forward, to which Tramp obeyed.

As the dog was patted and grabbed by the leash, Belle noticed him look at Lady and give a slight wink to her.

She also noticed the bashful, almost blushing, sort of look Lady smiled back at him. It didn't take a scientist to notice the "twitter-pated" vibes reverberating between the two canines.

Belle's eyes narrowed accusatorily down at Lady. Traitor!

The one thing she didn't notice was the similar accusing look Mael was giving Tramp, before looking back at her.

"So, since you found your little pooch, perhaps I can ask again: What are you doing here?"

"Gee, officer, is it suddenly against the law for one to go on a walk anymore?" She replied with mock sweetness as she stood up to face him.

He arched an eyebrow. "At the same time as a recent murdered kid's funeral? Pretty convenient, if I say so myself."

"Or maybe it is a coincidence! Either way, it doesn't make me a murderer!"

"…I never said you were, Belle."

Belle felt her face burn a bright red. For some reason, the way Mael said her name unnerved her, giving her shivers that went up and down her spine. It made him seem more familiar than he really was.

The irritating smirk on his face made it even worse.

"Then what's the point of treating me like a suspect?" she screeched, covering up with her anger.

"…Because I know you're involved in this somehow." Mael frowned thoughtfully. "Though I doubt you to be the killer, I can't deny that it was rather odd that you just so happened to be there. And I find your little 'ghost Pinocchio' story too fantastic to be true," he added at her indignant face.

Before she could protest, the investigator turned and walked away, dragging his dog in tow.

"Have a nice day, Belle."

For a few minutes of watching his retreating back, Belle's mouth opened and closed, making her look like a fish. Lady looked up at her, looking a little amused as she tilted her head.

Finally, when he was within hearing distance, Belle managed to get her voice box working again. She glared at his back, her face flushing with the embarrassment she felt at the loss of her composure.

"Yeah, you have a nice day too, you asshole!" She waved a tight fist at him.

From where he was standing, Mael smirked slightly and, without looking back, he lifted a hand to wave back at her.

Belle's face got redder as she seethed. "Oh, that…that…ugh!"

"Personally, I think he likes you."

Out of reflex, she jumped away and turned to the source of the voice. Then Belle rolled her eyes and sighed when she saw Peter sitting on the air Indian style, a sly smile on his face.

"And it's a good thing too." He added in a mutter low enough for Belle not to hear, "Asshole needs to get laid."

"...What was that?"

"Nothing. Anyway," he floated down to the ground, standing on it and gesturing for Belle to follow him, "come on, we've gotta go."

Belle looked at him warily. "Go where?"

Dark sunglasses magically appeared on his face as he posed. "The last church you will ever kneel in."

She stared at him. "…Are you serious?"

He smiled sheepishly, the sunglasses vanishing. "No, not really—but I am taking you to a church."

"…Okay, if I may ask: why?"

"Because those are my orders—and, as much as I hate following someone else's orders," Peter bit out bitterly, "there will be 'dire consequences' if I don't get this done."

He then started walking away in a random direction. Although her mind was screaming at her not to, Belle started following him, tugging Lady along the way.

"I don't think Pinocchio would be that mean." She assumed he had been talking about Pinocchio.

Peter threw his head back and laughed. "Oh, if you only knew, Bells.

"But no; he's not the one I'm worried about."

"Wait, then who—?"

"…You'll meet her when we get there."

VVVVVV

The church must have collapsed under some storm or something, because all that was left of it were debris and faded glass slivers of painted windows. It was settled a couple of feet away from the cemetery, on a tall grassy hill that had some graves on its base.

When Belle saw, she couldn't help but gape at it. Lady joined her at her side, eyes widening as she whimpered.

"What happened?" Belle asked Peter.

"I'm not really sure. I was too young when it happened, but my sister told me about it a couple of times." He crossed his arms over his chest, frowning thoughtfully. "The official story is that ten years ago, while the priest was giving a sermon, the storm from the outside was so strong that it made the old church collapse under the pressure of the winds."

Belle blinked. "But that's not what your sister told you."

He shook his head. "She said that it was caused by an angry ghost, because she heard it scream a few minutes before the church fell."

"How did she know that it was a ghost that screamed?"

"Because no one else heard it."

"Ah," Belle nodded, understanding. She thought for a moment, "Do you know the ghost who did it?"

"That's not important right now," a cool female voice said.

Belle glanced at her opposite side and jumped when she saw a little girl standing there. She had gold blonde hair that went down to her shoulders, icy blue eyes that stared hard up into Belle's brown, and a blue dress that was covered with a lacy white apron.

She blinked for a few moments, calming her speeding heart, and scowled at the little girl.

"Oh, great, it's you."

Alice smirked and quirked an eyebrow. "You don't sound so surprised."

"What can I say? I've been getting used to seeing ghosts today, and I know now you guys won't leave me alone. I might as well not fight it anymore."

"Right, well you're about to see more." The little girl gestured for Peter to come over, and then grabbed his hand. She held out her free hand to Belle, "Take my hand."

Belle looked at her hand skeptically. "Why am I getting the feeling that I'm going to regret this?"

"Trust me; you're not the only one." Peter eyed Alice warily.

Alice rolled her eyes. "Look, I'm not going to hurt you—"

He flashed Belle a mock frightened look and pointed at Alice accusatorily. "Lies, I tell you! Lies!"

Silver flashed and before Belle could blink, Alice had pulled out a knife and put the blade against the boy's throat. The weapon pierced a bit of his skin, causing a few drops of a black liquid, which had a slight red twinge, to seep through. Strangely enough, instead of being scared, Peter just glared at her and stepped back.

Her eyes narrowed. "Shut up, you underling."

"Fine." Peter scoffed and turned his head away, muttering, "Some people can't take a joke…"

Alice nodded curtly and grabbed his hand. Then she closed her eyes and started murmuring words so softly that Belle couldn't catch what she was saying.

Confident that the girl wouldn't hear him, Peter leaned his head towards Belle's ear and whispered, "See what I mean? Scary~!"

Belle mentally nodded in agreement as she watched Alice chant. After a while, the girl suddenly started to glow an ethereal blue. She opened her eyes and stared at Belle, offering out her hand.

The young woman hesitated, her brown eyes dimming with fear. Belle didn't know what would happen once she grabbed hold of Alice's hand. She had no idea what ghosts were capable of. For all she knew, they could be like that nightmare she had in the hospital. Did she want to take the risk?

Please Belle, they need you, that same motherly voice from before whispered inside her head.

Belle bit her lip. But I could get hurt.

You will not be harmed. I promise, her conscience, or what she thought was her conscience replied.

And so, Belle took Alice's hand. The minute she touched the girl, the three of them started to glow. The light became so blinding that Belle had to close her eyes and grip Alice's hand tighter.

Then, with a sound akin to POP, the two ghosts were gone, leaving a lifeless looking Belle to collapse onto the field.

Lady's eyes widened as she ran towards her unconscious human. Her skin had gone sallow and pasty, and her body was cold. The dog whimpered and nuzzled her human; she felt slightly relieved to hear a faint pulse, and soft inhales and exhales of air.

That mean that Belle was alive, no matter how much it didn't look that way.

But this begged the question: What happened to Belle? Where did those two not-humans go?

Lady growled softly as a thought came to her. Could it be they took her soul somewhere?

Contrary to popular belief, animals, especially the domesticated ones, were very much aware of souls. They never saw it, or smelled it—but they felt its presence. In fact, when many pets mourned the loss of their humans, they would let out cries of grief as they felt their humans' souls ascend from their bodies.

Whatever the circumstances, Lady decided to worry about that later, when everything was over with. For now, she had to guard Belle's body until her human regained consciousness.

I LIVE! (pulls a Mushu to face all you readers)

And apparently, so does this story!

There's a second part to this, but I still have to finish that up. As for W.D. Academy, and others?... Let's just hope that I'll be more motivated when my second year of college starts. That seems to be when I actually work on these things.

Anyway, hope you enjoyed it. I know it's not perfect, but it's a start for a come-back, right? And even if you didn't like it, please tell me what you think anyway. Critiques would be really helpful.