Chloe was quiet for most of the remaining drive. Along the way, I'd noticed that my polaroid camera had broken, probably when she smashed into Nathan and myself. She invited me over to her home so that I could repair it with some of her Stepfather's tools. I was rather amused when she referred to him as 'Step-douche.' Still, I find it hard to imagine Joyce marrying someone who fits Chloe's description of overbearing, bossy, anger-prone, and paranoid.

Anyways, the rest of the ride after that what spent in silence. When we arrived at Chloe's house, I felt a burst of nostalgia and guilt course through me. The house looked the same on the outside, the upper half painted blue. William, Chloe's father, died before he finished painting the walls. It only got worse when we went inside. The house itself is mostly the same, with some obvious differences, but the biggest change was Chloe's room.

Gone was the messy-organised room that I slept in just as often as my own. It was now replaced with a room as chaotic and rundown as Chloe herself, emphasising her change in lifestyle over the past five years. The two trash cans seem to be rarely used, if at all, and there was discarded clothing everywhere. Posters and graffiti littered the walls, and the height chart she kept on the wall with William was scratched out and tarnished with various scribbles and words.

I felt my eyes stinging for a moment, but refused to let it go any further than that. I simply followed Chloe into her room, my face void of emotion.

"My room looks a little different than the last time you saw it." She said, sitting and laying back on her bed.

"That's an understatement." I replied in a deadpan voice, earning at least a twitch upwards from her lips. "Better place to hang than a dorm, at least." I added, walking in.

"My step-fuhrer makes sure this ain't a 'hanging' place for me." Chloe shrugged, pulling out a blunt and lighting it. "Close the door for me, will ya?" She asked. I obliged. "Put on some music while I medicate." She said, letting out a huge puff of smoke.

"Where are the CDs?" I asked, looking about. I couldn't tell a CD box from a bar of soap in here. Then again, I doubt I'd find any kind of cleansing agent in this room.

"Metal box at the foot of the bed." She answered, pointing at the corner on the right. Well, my right, her left. With a nod, I kneeled down and opened the box, surprised at what I found.

It was a photograph, partly folded over, showing the missing girl, Rachel Amber, I think her name was. She wasn't smiling, as one usually does in a photo, but she wasn't crying or frowning. Her lips were curled up slightly, but I'd hardly call that a smile. Her hair was down, and she a blue jay feather hanging from her earring. I undid the fold, and saw it was Chloe, with her arm around Rachel, a hard scowl on her face, and her free hand flipping off the camera.

"Of course…" I deadpanned to myself, seeing the picture.

"Hey, gimme that!" Chloe snapped, snatching the picture out of my hands.

"You know, if want a photo kept secret, you might want to avoid telling someone to put on music with a CD that's located in a box with said photo." I said blankly, holding up the aforementioned CD. Chloe gave me a split-second long glare before focussing on the photo, her eyes dropping in sadness. "Seems she was a good friend." I said softly, sitting next to my oldest friend.

"That's an understatement." She mumbled under her breath. "After my Dad died, and you left, I felt abandoned. She was my angel. She saved my life." She sighed.

"So the missing person posters were yours." I surmised. She nodded. "I had no idea." I whispered, guilt coursing through me.

"You never made much effort to find out." Chloe returned bitterly. "We were 14, and best friends."

"I never forgot." I told her firmly. "I may have been a twat and not kept in contact, but you had Rachel." I reminded her, my voice softening.

"Yeah…" She whispered, looking at the photo with longing. "We were going to kick the world's ass together, and we had each other's backs." She sighed. "You would laugh at how different we were. She wanted to be a star, a model. We were going to leave Arcadia and hit LA."

"What happened? Joyce?" I asked.

"Please." Chloe rolled her eyes with a scoff. "Mom was too hooked up on Sergeant Shithead." She spat, glaring at the ground.

"Lovely." I deadpanned. "When did she disappear?" I asked, looking at the photo again.

"About six months ago." Chloe's voice held a sadness and vulnerability that I'd never seen in her before as she spoke. "She just up and left Arcadia. Without a word… Without me…" Her breath hitched.

"How do you know she disappeared and didn't run off?" I asked skeptically.

"Unlike you, she would have told me." Chloe snapped. "Something happened to her." The finality in her sentence was tangible.

"Alright then." I conceded. "What happened last time you saw her?" I asked.

"Well, before she left, she said she met someone who changed her life. Then, poof." She sighed in depression. "Just like everyone in my life. Gone. My Dad, you, and then Rachel." She wiped away a single tear that was threatening to fall. "Could you… put the music on now?" She asked shakily, laying back down. With a nod, I went over to the CD player and fired it up with the CD. The first song that played was Santa Monica Dream. As the song played, Chloe lay back and continued blazing. I myself pulled out my vape, a Sigelei T-200 device with a Themis RTA tank. The tank was filled with a raspberry and pineapple flavour. A few moments of silence passed as the two of us inhaled our preferred poisons. "You can get the tools you need from the garage." She told me. I nodded and got up, putting my vape in my pocket, and leaving my backpack behind.

"You going to be OK?" I asked softly.

"Yeah. I just want to be alone to blaze for a little while." She told me.

"Been there." I said with a wry smile, leaving the room.

Before I went to the garage, I took a moment to walk around the house that I spent half my childhood in. Joyce and William's room, or rather, Joyce and her new husband's room, was pretty much the same. A bird, a blue jay coincidentally, was dead on the window sill, so I rewound and opened the window, allowing the bird to fly in and land on the cupboard. I couldn't help but smile. It'll fly out the window eventually if I close the door.

As I went downstairs, I sat on the old couch, the same one Chloe and I used to play pirates on, and couldn't help but smile. Then, I noticed a light red stain on the carpet and had to laugh. Chloe and I had found a bottle of red wine that her parents had bought, after they made the mistake of leaving us alone. Chloe dared me to drink, but I insisted that she go first, which she did. By her expression, it was clear that it tasted awful, but she maintained that it was tasty. When I told her to hand the bottle over, she refused and said it wasn't for children. That day wasn't the first, nor the last time I had to emphasise that she was only half a year older than I am. Anyway, we ended up spilling the whole bottle. We tried our damndest to clean it up, but it left a stain, and boy did we get busted by Joyce and William.

Shaking my head, wiping away a small tear, I got up and went straight to the garage. No more distractions.

*Bleep*

"Of course…" I mumbled, grabbing my phone and opening my texts. It was from Kate.

Kate: Thx again for helping me Damon. :) You're the best.
Damon: Don't worry about it.
Damon: He was being an ass.

Kate didn't reply, so I carried on with my business. The garage looked the same as it did way back when, with some additions. Portraits that I didn't spare any attention, a deer's head mounted on the wall, and a crap load of other stuff I didn't pay attention to. Instead, I just looked through the cupboards. None of them had the tools I needed, but one of them did have a small TV. Curiosity getting the better of me, I turned it on.

It showed live footage of the whole house.

"The fuck?" I whispered, my eyes wide. "Mr 'stepdouche' put security cameras in all the rooms." I said, my tone disbelieving as the image shifted from Joyce's bedroom, to the front door, to the garage, to the dining room, and then outside. I'm not sure if it showed Chloe's room, but I didn't really care. I was invading privacy enough as is, so I immediately turned it off. "Twat's fuckin paranoid." I mumbled as I closed the cupboard, looking around. I spied a small box on a shelf. The box was resting on a couple of files, so I made to grab them. Instead of me grabbing the box however, it fell to the ground, taking the files with it. "Shit!" I cursed, picking up the box. It, and the files, had fallen into a small puddle of oil.

Shaking my head in annoyance, I opened the box. Bullets. Probably for the guns that were displayed in a case in the corner. One was missing, though I'd wager it was on the owner's person right now. Shaking my head, I placed the box on back on the shelf and picked up the now soaked files. I was about to rewind to undo the damage, but one of the pictures caught my attention. As I opened the file, my eyes widened.

Pictures of Kate.

"For serious?" I asked under my breath. A picture Kate walking down the stairs, one where she walked through the dorm hall, another where the photographer, and I use that term loosely, was clearly hidden behind a bush. "Fucking creeper." I growled. I'll have to have a word with him at some point in time. Scowling, I dropped the file and rewound, bringing the now undamaged file back up to its original place up on the shelf.

Eventually, I found the tools I was looking for. They were stacked on top of the washing machine. I tried to reach for them, to no avail. Mainly due to the fact that they were on top of several other objects stacked up there. Unfortunately, I accidentally activated the device. The vibrations brought the box down, but they landed behind a workbench, where I can't get to them. So, I rewound, and slipped a sheet of cardboard under the workbench and repeated my previous action, which brought the tools to the ground again, though this time on the cardboard. Then it was a simple matter of pulling the cardboard out from under the workbench, and voila.

Smiling with a little pride in myself, I took the tools right back to Chloe's room to fix my camera.

"You have got to be shitting me." I groaned after about an hour of trying to fix my camera. After I'd returned, Chloe said I could sit at her desk and work. Unfortunately, my camera has officially taken a shit.

"That bad?" Chloe asked, sitting up.

"Yep." I sighed. "The processing rollers are bent beyond repair, and they cost a small fortune to replace." I massaged my temples. "I'm gonna have to go digital, and that's not cheap either." I slumped in the chair. "Mum's going to kill me."

"These your new photos?" She asked, walking up beside me.

"Yeah, the last ones I'll ever take with this guy." I sighed mournfully.

"Wait a minute…" Chloe mumbled under her breath. "I've seen this before!" She held up the photo I took of the blue butterfly and it's reflection. "You took this photo you brat?" She asked with a wide grin.

"And for the first time in five years, I reiterate, you're only six months older than me." I groaned with a facepalm.

"It was you who set off the alarm, in the bathroom today, wasn't it?" She demanded, giving me an intense look. "It hella makes sense; that's why Nathan raged after you!" She realised.

"Hella…" I repeated, giving her a blank look. "Another word the Americans have defiled my mother tongue with." I sighed.

"Fuck that." Chloe waved a dismissive hand. "You so saved my life." She said, her voice going down as she stared right into my eyes. "Tell me the truth." She said simply.

Sighing, I relented. "Yes, you're right." I told her, making her grin widely. "I was the bathroom, and I'm the one who off the fire alarm." I conceded.

"Dude! You're like a ninja!" She said cheerfully.

"You're the second one to compare me to a ninja today." I rolled my eyes. "All I did was take a butterfly photo and pull an alarm. I wasn't even sure how Nathan would react." I admitted.

"It was badass, no matter what you think." Chloe crossed her arms with a smirk. "So, did you recognise me?" She asked with a raised eyebrow.

"A bell rang in the back of my mind, but I couldn't place it." I narrowed my eyes at her. "I was too busy trying to figure out what kind of fucked up drug deal was going on." I told her, and expectant look on my face.

"I'll… tell you soon." She said, seeming uncomfortable. Understandable enough I suppose. "Now, I have to ask, did you tell anyone?" She asked firmly.

"Right, like Principal Wells is going to anything about a precious Prescott waving a gun around." I snarked in a sarcastic tone. "You and I both know that the Prescotts have any and all authority figures in Arcadia Bay in their back pockets." I said bluntly. "There is nothing to gain by telling anyone."

"Thank fuck." Chloe sighed in relief. "You're right not to trust Wells." She told me. "Drunk jackass only cares about cash for the Academy." She frowned.

"I am aware." I shrugged.

"I owe you." She said, going over to the shelf, kneeling. She rummaged around the shelves for a bit, looking for something, before she finally found what she was looking for, judging by the smile she put on. "I know you're birthday was a month ago, but I want you to have this." She said, handing a polaroid camera over to me, a better model than my now broken one. Wait a minute… "It was my real father's camera." She told me, her voice holding a twinge of sadness at the mention of William.

"Chloe…" I breathed out, looking at her as I stood up. "It's really sweet that you remembered my birthday, but I can't take this." I told her, handing the camera back. She shook her head and pushed my hand back.

"Dad would be pissed if I let it sit around collect dust." She insisted. "With you, I know it will be used awesomely." She smiled at me. I was still reluctant, but I conceded. "And I'll snag this as a symbol of our reunion, cool?" She bargained, holding up the blue butterfly picture.

"Yeah, cool." I sighed, smiling despite myself. "Thank you Chloe." I said with the most sincere smile I could. Wow, I must be better looking than I thought, because that even got Chloe to blush like a schoolgirl.

"Now that the mushy shit is out of the way, let's rock!" She said quickly, scampering over to the CD player. I had to laugh. "Let's turn this place upside down!" She cheered, playing some loud punk music.

"You're nuts!" I laughed, placing the camera down on the desk.

"Yep, I'm fucking insane in the brain!" Chloe whooped as she started dancing. "Come on dance! Shake that snowy white ass!" She hopped up onto the bed and started dancing. "Or take a pic with your new camera!' She suggested, dancing. I shook my head, smiling as I picked up the camera once more, photographing her dancing. I kept the smile as I looked at the photo. She looks so happy. "Hey, catch me!" She cried out as I put the camera down.

"What?" I asked, turning my head just in time to see her jump. "Shite!" I yelped as I caught her by her waist. She laughed loudly as I spun her. Having gotten over my shock, I laughed along with her. Man have I missed this girl. Ah, who am I kidding? She's a woman now.

"Chloe! How many times have I told you to stop blasting that punk shit!" A voice from outside the room howled. Wait, I know that voice...

"Shit! Put me down!" Chloe hissed. I did as she asked, and she quickly went over to the CD player and turned it off. "There! You happy now!" She yelled at whom I presume to be her stepfather.

"We need to talk! I'm coming up!" The man yelled back.

"Fuck! You've got to hide!" Chloe hissed urgently. "Stepdouche hates it when I bring people in here." She warned. We both frantically looked for a place to hide, before something struck me. Chloe left her ashtray on the desk.

"Joint!" I hissed, pointing at the tray. Her eyes widened and she quickly scampered over to it and did the first thing that popped into her head; she threw it out the window.

"Be cool!" She hissed. I nodded and quickly sat down at the desk, pretending to work on fixing my camera again as the man walked in. Guess who?

"Chloe!" David Madsen, the Head of Security of Blackwell whom I tore a new one in earlier, barked at his apparent stepdaughter. Then, he noticed me. "What are you doing here?" He demanded, glaring at me.

"I could ask you the very same question." I said with a raised eyebrow. "You're the stepdouche?" I asked, mostly for comical effect. I'd figured that out by now. At least Chloe was snickering.

"Why are you here?" He ignored, glaring. "I don't like strangers in my house." He growled.

"Firstly, it's Joyce's house, not yours. Second, if you married her, I would assume Joyce told you of her oldest friend, Klare Azrail?" I asked with a raised eyebrow. His eyes widened.

"You're Joyce's godson?" he asked in shock.

"Indeed I am." I confirmed. "I stopped by today to catch up with my oldest friend, with whom I've been attached at the hip to since daycare." I said, gesturing to Chloe. "I heard Joyce got remarried, but I wasn't aware it was you." I said, sending Chloe a look. She rolled her eyes with a frown. "Anyways, I guarantee you, I am no stranger to this house. In fact, I've more than likely slept in this house more nights than you have. And you live here." I told him. He glared at me before turning to Chloe, apparently deciding to end our conversation here.

"One of my guns is missing." He said to her. "Did you take it?" He asked. More like demanded, but I digress.

"No, I didn't take your gun." Chloe said with a scoff, sitting on her bed with her arms crossed. "You do know I believe in gun control right?" She asked snarkily. For some reason, I don't really believe her.

"Chloe, I will have you running around with my gun. Look me in the eye, and tell me the truth, that's an order." Madsen growled.

"For God's sakes, I didn't take your gun, Private." She sneered out the word 'private' like an insult. Well, it is the lowest possible rank in the US military, so… Anyway, David simply growled and stormed off, slamming the door. Clearly, my conversation with him earlier today had no effect. Shame.

"You totally took the gun, didn't you?" I asked with a raised eyebrow. She looked at me with wide, fake-hurt eyes.

"Don't you trust me?" She asked, placing a hand over her heart, throwing her head back dramatically.

"No." I said bluntly. "Now fess up." I told her. She pouted, which I admit was rather cute on her, before speaking.

"The name's Price." She whispered, whipping out a Smith and Wesson M-10 revolver. It's a low-caliber gun, but I'd rather she not point it at me like she is now. "Chloe Price." Ah, James Bond references.

"Price is high apparently." I deadpanned, pushing the barrel to point anywhere except my face.

"Chillax brotha, it's not loaded. Yet." She told me with a sneaky smile.

"I thought you believed in gun control." I remarked.

"Yes, I believe I should control the gun. It's the men that need to be checked." I flipped her the bird for that one. "With obvious exceptions!" She added quickly. "I mean, you trust David or Nathan?" She challenged.

"Valid." I conceded.

"That was awesome when you tore into him though." She grinned. I could only offer a small smile in return. "Stepdouche ain't a match for the dynamic duo, back together again!" We shared a laugh. "Anywho, let's sneak out the window. I wanna pick up my blunt and get out of this hickhole. There's another place we can hang." She said, walking up to the window.

"As long as we stop at a drive-thru or something first. I need coffee. My treat." I told her.

"Deal." She agreed, opening the window.

"Ladies first." I said with a bow, earning an eye roll as she climbed over her desk, out the window. Smiling, I pocketed my vape, and slung my backpack over my shoulder, following her out of the window. We slipped into her truck and she drove off to wherever she was taking us. But not before stopping at a Starbucks.

Imagine my surprise when Chloe stops at the cliff pathway. In complete silence, we sipped our Starbucks coffee as we strolled up the path. As we neared the lighthouse, I stopped for a moment. This was the exact same path I took in that strange dream/vision I had in Jefferson's class. Just, without the weird tornado, storm, wind, and rain, etc. It was quite peaceful, if I'm being honest. I'm not usually an outdoors person, but this place is beautiful.

"Serious Deja vu." I thought to myself, shaking my head as I continued on the path. When I got the top, I found that Chloe had already taken a seat on the bench. "This seat taken?" I asked with a small smile, which she returned.

"Have a seat, Pete." She said cheerfully.

"It's Damon, and you seem to be in a good mood." I observed, sitting beside her as she sipped her coffee. It's amazing how it stays hot for so long.

"Seeing my stepdork all tongue-tied makes me happy." She said with a happy smile.

"I have to admit, I wasn't expecting David Madsen of all people to be your stepfather." I told her. "He's a bit of a hardass. I can't imagine having to live with him." I said, looking at the sunset. "Is he always like that?" I asked.

"Ever since my desperate Mom dragged him into our home." Chloe spat out, glaring nothing in particular. "I never trusted him."

"I ask because I don't speak to him. He's good at his job, but he's far from pleasant, so I kept out of his way." I frowned, remembering earlier at Blackwell. "He freaked out on my friend Kate."

"Kate Marsh? I know her. She's sweet. Only David would hassle her."

"He has good intentions, but he's going about it completely wrong."

"He has files hidden in the garage. Rambo still thinks he's gathering intelligence."

"Clearly he's looking in the wrong place." Chloe and I shared a grin at my quip. "Anyways, I saw the files. He had pictures of Kate and several other students."

"Prick's paranoid as hell."

"War will do that to you."

"Who's side are you on?"

"Mine. My Grandfather is a veteran as well, of the Nigerian Civil War. I've seen first hand what war can do to a person. You should be thankful he's not worse, because Grandad is." Ok, quick clarification, I love my Grandfather. He's great guy, great grandparent, and a great soldier. But anyone can see, clear as day, that it has had its effect on him. I've seen him have panic attacks, flashbacks, and more. I remember seeing him pale when he taught me how to use a gun a few years ago.

"Whatever. It doesn't excuse him though. He has a total surveillance fetish! I'm worried there are spy cams in my house."

"There are."

"What?!"

"I saw the screen when I was looking for the tools."

"That bastard is so hella fucking paranoid!" Wow, I think I heard and echo. "I'll keep this a secret for now…" She sighed. "Guess that's why I'm so miserable. Everybody in this town knows everybody's secrets."

"And Nathan?" I asked.

"He's an elite asshole who sells bad shit cut with laxative." Chloe said bluntly.

"Crude terminology, but alright." I said beckoning her to continue.

"He dosed me with something in his room." She went on, quietly this time. I froze.

"What?" I growled, white hot rage coursing through me. "What did the fucker do? Tell me now Chloe." I hissed. Chloe seemed quite take aback by my anger.

"I met him in some bar that didn't card me. He was too rich for the place and too wasted. He kept flashing bills, too..." I didn't say a thing. "I thought he was so blazed that it would be an easy score."

"You needed money that bad?"

"Yeah,I owe big time…" She nodded. "I thought I'd have enough for me and Rachel if she showed up..."

"Must be a heavy debt."

"Three grand, plus interest." Chloe replied.

"Christ."

"Yeah."

"So what happened after you saw him?"

"We went to his Blackwell dorm. We drank, I laughed at his rich kid bullshit, and he slipped something into my beer." Her face was visibly angry at this point. "When iI woke up, the perv was smiling at me with a camera." She shuddered slightly.

"How did you get out?" I asked hesitantly.

"It's all a blur. I tried to kick him in balls, but broke a lamp instead. He was freaked, so I was able to bum rush the door high tail it outta there." She sighed. "Damon, it was insane."

"I'm fucking furious right now." I spat. "Remind me to nail him in the bollocks tomorrow." She smiled in amusement, ever so slight as it was. "I hate to ask, but he didn't… you know… did he?" I asked. Chloe shook her head.

"No. I uh… gave myself a look over afterwards. Even if he intended to go that far, he never got to." She shuddered again. This is not a pleasant thing to talk about for her apparently. "Anyway, I figured I could him pay to keep me quiet. So I told him to meet me in the bathroom." She explained.

"And here we are now." I finished for her. She nodded.

"I'm still tripping over the fact that you saved my life." She smiled at me. "Seeing you today after all these years feels like…" She trailed off.

"Fate?" I asked. She didn't , she stood up walked over to the edge of the cliff. I followed, standing beside her.

"If this is fate, I hope we can find Rachel soon." Chloe whispers with some longing in her voice. "I miss her, Damon." She told me sadly, before glaring at the town. "This stupid town has taken everyone I've ever loved! I want to drop a bomb on this place and turn it to fucking glass." She hissed in disdain. Everyone she ever loved? Does that include me I wonder?

I was about to respond, but all of a sudden, I felt a familiar feeling course through my entire body. It was similar to what I feel when I rewind, but more intense. It was dizzying, not to mention the excruciating migraine I suddenly got as I stumbled backwards. I groaned loudly in pain as my vision started to blur. I heard Chloe call out my name as everything went black.

I was back in the storm, right back where I started earlier, only this time, I was standing up, not lying on the ground. A few metres in front of me, I saw a black shape moving. It took a moment for the image to clear up, but I was able to make out what it was.

A wolf.

Its fur was pitch black, and it's piercing red eyes bore into my silver ones. They showed no hostile, wild, or feral traits. In fact, it's eyes showed incredible intelligence. It was both unnerving as hell, especially in this storm, and fascinatingly mesmerizing. With a simple tilt of it's head, the strange wolf turned and walked up the hill. Every instinct I had screamed at me to follow it, so that's what I did.

It led me uphill, just like the last time I was in this storm dream. I was nearly trampled by a rockslide at one point in time, but I was able to rewind my way out of that mess. I heard the rocks fall behind me, but I pressed on in my pursuit of the strange wolf. Again, I was nearly trampled, but this time by a falling tree. I rewound just as it was a few centimetres away from my face, hurrying after the wolf. When I got to the lighthouse, the wolf was gone.

Cliche as it might seem, a newspaper slammed into my face in the wind. Grunting, I yanked it off, seeing the date on it. "The fuck?" I whispered. Friday, 11th of October, four days from now. "Oh no…" I breathed, seeing the horizon. The huge, strange tornado was there, headed right for the town.

(Play: Obstacles - Syd Matters)

The feeling of a hand on my shoulder caught my attention, and I turned.

I was face to face with Chloe, standing in the exact same spot I was before, sweating pinballs down my forehead, and probably paler than one would think possible. Chloe was looking at me with a panicked worry, trying to talk to me. I didn't 'not hear her' per se. It was more like her words were not registering in my mind. There was too much stimulation, and my legs felt like jelly. It wasn't more than a few seconds before I fell to my knees,

"Damon?" Chloe asked softly, kneeling before me. "Are you OK? You blacked out on me."

"It can't be real… it shouldn't be…" I was whispering to myself. I didn't really register the irony of that statement until later.

"What couldn't be real?" Chloe asked, her hands on my shoulders.

"Today, before the bathroom, I had a weird dream." I breathed out, my breath still escaping me. "There was a storm, a tornado. I-I was here, at the lighthouse. Lightning struck and…" I stopped, pale as snow.

"What? What's wrong?" Chloe asked, panicking. I ignored her.

"It might be connected to what happened in the bathroom… Or is it Jefferson?" I asked myself, more rambling on than anything else.

"What do Nathan and a Photography teacher have to with now?" Chloe asked, utterly bewildered.

"No, not them." I shook my head, massaging my temples. "In the bathroom, when Nathan brought out the gun. Something happened." I told her. "Something I can't explain."

"What?" Chloe demanded, wanting answers.

"It supposed to be impossible. I don't know how, but I-" I stopped as something cold hit my face. "The fuck?" I breathed out, seeing a snowflake fall into my palm.

"Snowflakes?" Chloe asked the air as we stood up. "How? It's 80 degrees!" She protested, looking around us. It was indeed snowing in Autumn.

"A storm is coming." I whispered. Now is not the time to reference Game of Thrones Damon.

Chloe looked at me seriously. "Damon, start from the beginning." She all but ordered me. "What happened?"

I looked at her, then out at the town. The town I called home since I was born. Since my parents moved here from England during my mother's pregnancy. Since my mother and her best friend, Joyce Price, took both of their children to the same Day Care. Since I met the woman that stood here with me, back when we were toddlers.

Since I returned, after five years.

OK, so the first episode is done. Not gonna lie, I'm quite stoked to see where this story goes. I specifically modelled Damon to be incredibly similar, but incredibly different to Max. A love of photography, but with a darker twist. Not nearly as 'nosy' as Max can be, but still curious and interested in other people's lives and/or business. He's much more decisive and intelligent than Max, and he's quick to think. He's just as introverted as Max, if not more so, and rather self-conscious, but only with a few a things. He's a logical thinker with an artistic view; best of both. He's also quite devious and downright dark and/or sadistic at times, but still a nice guy. There is more, but I'm sure you'll all see it soon enough.

Essentially, he's the epitome of Black and White becoming Grey at a moment's notice.

Now, concerning the wolf. It was never really confirmed what the doe represents in Life is Strange. Some say it's Rachel's spirit animal, but I disagree. I am of the opinion that the bluejay is Rachel's spirit animal, and that the doe is MAX'S Spirit Animal. This means that Rachel's spirit is calling out to Max, manifesting itself as Max's spirit animal; a doe. In the case of Damon, Rachel would be calling out to him, and manifesting as his spirit animal instead; a wolf.