Priestess Aishisu: You know, I should really be more upset. I mean, everything I ever worked for has been flushed down the toilet. When I lost my other profile (which wasn't nearly as good, anyway) I was crying like a baby But, at the same time, I still have Mediaminer.org and Adultfanfiction.net. The last time I lost my profile, I had...nothing. So, I guess, I'm not really that upset. I should be, but I'm not.

However, I am no longer:

1) Replying to reviews. One of my friends got in trouble for doing that

2) Writing Yu-Gi-Oh fanfiction. There's always a chance I'll slip into writing lemons (I made that mistake with Pharaoh Bakura and Thief Atemu)

I will, however, continue to write Teen Titans. Eventually.

Chad was a bit nervous as he entered the room (i.e. he was ready to run at the slightest inkling), but tried to remain calm. Cree was sitting on the bed, propped up by pillows, looking very different than she had when he met her.

For one thing, her hair. It had been in dreadlocks when he last saw her, but now it was incredibly long and very silky. It didn't seem burnt, and neither did her face, and her outfit hid most of her. But her hands, laid palm-up on her lap, were so burnt and blistered the skin didn't even look like skin. And her expression was strange: she was gazing up with her eyes half-lidded, in some sort of trance. When he walked closer, she snapped out of it, and smiled at him.

The smile caught him off-guard. She seemed so beautiful he could have doubted she was human, without a trace of either the mysterious staring woman a moment before and even less of the angry snapping woman he had heard over that communication thingy.

"Hello." Her voice didn't sound angry either, and not like it would if you had just been out of a fire.

As if she read his mind, Cree said, "I didn't look like this when I came from the fire—well, I was unconscious, so I'm not sure. And my body wasn't as lucky as my face, not to get a scratch."

"That's what I thought," he replied, hating himself for being so jumpy. She was acting perfectly friendly, but maybe she was having mood swings or something. Then he had a thought, and said, "How did you escape from the fire when no one else did?"

She sighed, and a shadow passed over her lovely onyx eyes. "I used the window. My best friend Natalie helped me reach it, but the house was crumbling. My hands got like this getting up there and touching the heated metal, by the way," she remarked, again seeming to read his mind. "I got on the ledge and tried to grab her, but the house crumbled before I could. She tumbled into the flames, and I tumbled out of the window. When I woke up, I was in the hospital." She smiled, but it was a mere twisting of the lips this time. "Not much of a story. My other best friend, Sheila, died too. I saw her burnt corpse for a moment when she died. Then of course it vanished. There was too much fire for it not to."

For a moment, Chad couldn't speak. When he did, his voice was a bit hoarse. "That's awful. Do you know who did it?"

Cree nodded, and suddenly pure outrage filled her face. The change was so sudden and terrifying Chad immediately stepped back. Cree didn't even need to notice as she hissed, "My little sister and her stupid friends."

Chad couldn't help but gawk at her. Then he swallowed, though his throat felt very dry. "Oh," he said dully, realizing that if he were to try to say anything else he would probably cry.

Suddenly the mood vanished, and Cree smiled again. "What about you? Weren't you on that football team?"

"Me?" Chad replied stupidly. Of course him, there was no one else around. "I quit."

Cree lifted an eyebrow in surprise. "Why?"

Chad shrugged. After hearing that story—and indeed, it was a story despite its shortness, and maybe the saddest he had ever heard—his own reasons seemed insignificant and stupid.

Cree stared at him, and once again he had the impression that she was looking through him. There was a tickling in the back of his mind, and he had the impression that if he could see her pupils they would have dilated. Staring back, he saw that her pretty black eyes were flecked with cerulean. He wondered why he hadn't noticed that before.

But she didn't say a word, and at last she smiled again. "Well, I guess if you don't want to tell me it isn't really my business." She laughed lightly, and he decided that the mood swings were the most likely explanation.

"Well, I better go," he said, turning quickly. "I guess I'll see you later, Cree." She nodded, and he could still feel her enchanting gaze on him long after he had left.

Cree's eyes snapped open when she heard something. Rising up, she glanced around. Inexplicable fear filled her, and she suddenly felt hysterical. "Who's there?"

For some reason, her mind went to nightmares she used to have as a child of being chased by a shadow woman. The white light of the moon had always scared the creature off, though.

She touched the amulet which her parents claimed she had been born with. It was a moon made of a silver crystal which glimmered in an aurora borealis of different hues. Latin sayings were etched on the back, and she had always felt that the amulet had a life of its own. Somehow, the amulet hadn't melted in the fire.

As soon as she did, words fell from her lips—"O Mater Luna, Regina Nocis, adiuvo me nunc." It was a Latin prayer, which she had never learned but for some reason always said in times of great danger. It translated into "Oh Mother Moon, Queen of the Night, protect me now." Cree shuddered. She had said that prayer during the fire.

Suddenly and swiftly, she rolled off the bed—sheets and all—and covered her head. The bed burst into flames and disintegrated in a moment. Feeling ill, she turned painfully to see a slender woman made of shadows. Was this a dream?

The being lifted a shadowy hand and black fire blazed out. Cree did a painful flip and landed on the other side of the room. "Help!" she cried, her voice feeling choked. She lifted a lamp with her mind and aimed it at the creature, but the creature swatted it away and it crashed against a wall.

The door opened, and Chad stepped in. "Cree?" He then took in the scene—the burnt bed, the crushed lamp, Cree slumped against a wall, and the creature advancing on her. "What the—?"

"Chad, run!" Cree shrieked, but the warning came too late.

The creature whirled and blasted Chad in the arm. Chad cried out in pain as he crashed into the wall. He gripped his arm and moaned in pain. He could already tell it was broken.

Rage filled Cree, and she rose unsteadily to her feet. The amulet blazed, and shot out white light glittering with pink and purple sparks. It hit the creature, who let out an inhuman roar and stumbled backwards.

Running to Chad despite the obvious pain, she dropped to her knees. "Are you all right?" she asked, thankful that his eyes had been shut so he didn't see her blast the creature.

"Yeah..." he muttered, wincing in pain as he tried to rise up. She cursed her own injuries and the fact that she couldn't help him up without hurting herself. He did, however, help her up with his good arm. "Th–Thanks, Cree."

The creature was coming closer, and Cree glanced and Chad. He was staring at the creature, stunned. Then he turned and said, "What is that?"

Cree hesitated, then swiftly reached behind him and hit a sensitive point in the back of his neck. His eyes rolled backwards and he slumped against her.

"Sorry about that," she said softly, laying him back down and being careful not to injure him further. She then turned, filled with fury, to the shadow creature.

The amulet blazed and struck out at it. Once again, the creature stumbled back. Not giving it time to react, she blasted again. And again, and again, and again, and again.

The creature roared in pain and blasted her. She slammed against the wall, slumping next to Chad. The creature dissolved into shadows, but it would be back.

The slanting rays of the sun hit Chad's eyelids, and he rubbed his eyes with his good arm as he got up. Why does my neck hurt? Where did the shadowy creature that was attacking Cree go? Cree! Is she—

He turned and gasped slightly. Cree was slumped beside him, and because her nightgown was sleeveless he could see that she wasn't exaggerating when she talked about her burns. Even her neck was scarred, which was probably why she had been wearing a turtleneck. Her feet were bare, and it seemed the soles of her feet had literally burnt off. Worse than the burns was the fact that the strange shadowy creature must have thrown her against the wall as well—there was fresh blood dripping from an injury in her head.

Due to his advanced medical (and just about everything else) training, he was able to think quickly despite the unbearable pain in his arm. Running to the sheets next to the pile of ashes that had been a bed, he managed to tear a strip of fabric from one and sprinted back to Cree. Pressing the fabric against Cree's wound, he managed to lift her and carry her to a couch. He tied the fabric in place and ran to the bathroom, hoping beyond hope that there was some ice.

Abigail scowled at the slab of chocolate. Usually she liked chocolate, but she couldn't enjoy it now. That stupid bitchy idiotic...She growled. Her father was grieving over Cree, and her spiteful sister couldn't even be bothered to come and let him know she was all right. Abigail would have liked to tell him, but then she would have had to admit it was her fault the building had been set on fire.

Either die or show up, she thought grumpily, biting into the slab. The luscious taste was wasted on her. More than the rage, there was the curiosity. Her sister was right down the lane (Priestess Aishisu: It's odd that the Kids Next Door actually live next door to the Delightful Children From Down the Lane but they actually live next door from the Kids Next Door. However, I saw that episode with Grandma Stuffums and realized that it was actually possible) from the tree house, but Abigail hadn't seen her since the fire. She knew that Cree couldn't have survived the fire, but maybe she did have some injury or another.

Taking another bite, she glanced out the window. It was odd how the tree house was right next door to a mansion that was right down the lane. She had been in the mansion plenty of times, though it wasn't until a while ago that she realized the Delightful Children and their father weren't the only ones that lived there. Of course, there were over five hundred rooms...

Abigail wondered which of the rooms Cree was in. If she knew, she could just break in and...

And then what? Fight? Talk? Spy?

Abigail sighed. Why was life so complicated? She hated her sister, had hated her since she was four, and had never hated her more. But she couldn't help but wish she would come home. Her father was so miserable, it just wasn't fair.

Doesn't he realize that she deserves to be burned alive? That's what she did to Mom!

Cree felt something cold touching her head. Her head felt fuzzy, but she cast out her senses and tried to feel the aura of whoever was there and immediately recognized Chad. She moaned softly, trying to speak.

"Cree?" His voice was so warm and concerned it broke through the haze around her.

Her eyes fluttered open weakly and she tried to rise up, but he used his good hand to push her—very gently—back on the couch. "You have to rest," he said as he put down the cloth he had been dabbing her head with. "You're hurt."

"So are you," she pointed out, glancing at the cast on his arm. He shrugged, dismissing the cast. "I've had worse injuries," he said lightly. "You're the one who's been unconscious for over a day."

Then something dark crossed his eyes—just for a moment—and he asked, "What was that thing that attacked you?"

"I don't know," Cree replied truthfully. "But it's been after me all my life, and it calls me Goddess."

"How did you get rid of it?" Chad asked. "If it's been after you so long, it wouldn't just leave. And I doubt you could have fought and defeated it in your condition."

"Well, thanks," she muttered, then sighed. It was no use lying. He deserved to know.

"Turn around." He obeyed, seeming puzzled. "Do you see that vase on the table?" When he nodded, she focused and pictured it rising up. Sure enough, the vase was soon drifting inches above the table. Cree set it back down and watched Chad.

He turned and stared at her in fear and disbelief. When he spoke, it seemed to take effort. "You're a—"

"Psychic," Cree said quickly, not wanting him to think he had broken his arm for something evil. "I've had ESP since before I can remember. That was why the lamp was broken. I couldn't have thrown it with my hands, you know."

Chad didn't reply. For an excruciating amount of time, he just continued gawking at her. But he didn't seem afraid anymore. Just stunned. At last he said, "I've heard of psychic powers. I've never believed in them."

It required Cree quite a bit of restraint to keep herself from laughing with relief. "Is that all? Everybody has psychic powers. Most people just don't know how to use them."

This information seemed to please him. "Even me?"

Cree nodded. "Even you. I can teach you how to use your powers," she offered. "After all, it's the least I can do after you put yourself in danger saving my life."

Chad's eyes lit up. "Really? Would you?"

This time Cree did laugh. "Yeah. We can start right now.