Ello, ello. I know it's taken me forever and a nut shell to post. Writer's block sucks monkey doesn't it? Yeah, I should know. I've had it for weeks. Sorry if it reads like I have. Drag me out back and shoot me with a hair dryer. Sigh. It also doesn't help I got married two days ago. Yup. I now have a cyber wife, Sofie. Lol. Sorry, we're little weirdos. Well, I am.

Thanks to Mrs. Nikki Slater, maritinkerbell, Ivory Nightshade, & last but definitely not least, Angelic Chocolate Fairy (and her future husband. Heehee.). You all rock! Reviews always make my day. :D

Now, on to the big disclaimer/spoiler. As many of you who have read Twilight will know, there is an excerpt in here belonging to Meg Cabot, from Twilight. I give her full credit. It's the flashback of Jesse's near death. All hell that breaks loose after her initial writing is mine though. Go me. Woot.

Now, onto the show. Enjoy. I hope it doesn't suck feet. (Lol, Paul)

Chapter 8: Can't repeat

It's all her fault. If she was just honest with us to begin with, we wouldn't be in this mess. I swear, right now, if murdering weren't illegal I wouldn't be able to control myself.

The floor I'm on is cold, wet, and hard and the air is deathly humid. "Where am I?" you ask. No freaking clue. All I know is it's dark...really, really dark. So dark I can't even see my hand in front of my face, let alone the other people here with me.

You see? I wasn't fibbing. It is technically Qain's fault, I know, but still. Honesty is the best policy when dealing with a psychopathic murderer.

I don't know how long I was out cold. Maybe hours, maybe days. When I woke up I realized one thing straight away—I was in pain. A lot of pain. Everywhere.

Let me tell you, being electrocuted is no picnic. Avoid electrocution at all costs. It's worse than a concussion. Believe, I should know.

I slowly opened my eyes. At least I think I did. Like I said before, it was seriously dark. From my right came a slapping sound, as if something was smacking the stone floor. The sound crept closer and closer. Suddenly something hit me in the face. I did what sane shifter would do. I sunk my teeth into whatever it was.

What? It was dark and I freaked!

"OWW!" someone yelled. Oops. It was Saben.

"Sorry, " I apologized meekly. The bitter taste of blood had dripped onto my tongue. Using my shirt, I wiped the blood from my lips. A flash back to Red Beaumont entered my mind, and I couldn't help smiling to myself.

"It's okay," she replied. From her tone, it was through gritted teeth. "I like your thinking. Should anything else move, you…bite it in the hand. Assuming it has one."

I laughed in spite of myself. Again there was slapping sound.

"Do you really think that's wise?" I laughed.

Before she could answer a groan came from my left, followed by what I assume was cursing—in Spanish. Rapid, incoherent Spanish cursing.

"Jesse? Are you okay?" I asked, and began feeling around, trying to find him.

"Querida?" he answered rather quietly. "Am…am I blind?"

"No, Jesse, it's just dark," I answered miserably.

"Then where are we? What's going on?"

"I don't know."

Suddenly, Saben shrieked, "PAUL!" Her outburst was followed by deep chuckling, which I could tell was from the accused.

"That's what you get for having frisky hands."

"What's going on over there?" I inquired. I would kill for a flashlight right now.

"He—I—argh! He's a pervert!" Saben groaned in disgust.

"She grabbed my ass," Paul's chortled.

"Slater," Jesse warned. "Now is definitely not the time for your antics."

I didn't say anything. I mean, what do you say to something like that? Grow up? We're talking Paul here—it's to be expected.

"Do that again and you'll lose whatever I grab, got it?" she threatened. "Now—" her tone lightened substantially—" Is anyone hurt?"

"Yeah," I replied. "Every inch of me hurts like hell."

"That's a side effect of mild electrocution. I'm talking gashing flesh wounds, broken bones, or something along those lines."

No one had a chance to reply. A sudden light filled the room, nearly blinding me. It took my eyes a few seconds to adjust before I realized it was Hector.

"Is everyone okay?" he asked worriedly. I refrained from saying what went through my mind, mainly because it wasn't very nice. Not that I am or anything. Pfft.

"We'll live, Hector," Saben responded while looking around the room. Room isn't a very good word for it. The entire "room' was circular with walls made of stone. Opposite of us was a large, steel, no doubt, locked door. The floor had a large hole in the middle of it that appeared to be horrifically deep. I was afraid to get to close to it. From where I was I could hear splashing sounds from within along with high-pitched squeaks.

Rats.

I could have died right there. How did I not notice them earlier? Oh yeah, we were talking. The talking probably dulled the squeaking vermin.

There were no chains or lights or anything in the room. Just the floor, the nasty rats, and us. As I strained to see into the revolting pit another thought popped into my mind.

The Ring.

I watched that movie with Jesse a few weeks ago and it scared the crap out of me! The cavity in the floor looked a lot like the well that freaky chick crawled out of before killing people.

Great. Just great, Suze. Way to freak yourself out here.

I quickly scooted closer to Jesse and the wall. The zombie shall not get me first! Assuming she's actually in there. Most likely I'm just paranoid.

Scoot scoot.

"Have you found anything yet?" Saben asked, watching me scoot away from the pit. One of her eyebrows—the pierced one—was raised in amusement.

"No. He came home before I could fully search his house."

"Damn it."

"I'm sorry, Querida, I'm trying but—"

"That wasn't directed at you, Hector. It's fine. Just…keep looking," she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. With a curt not he began to dematerialize, but swiftly fluttered back.

"Querida, have you tried shifting out of here?" he asked with one of those illegible looks of his.

"It won't work."

"Why not?" Paul asked bemusedly.

"I've already tried and I can't. He has our minds barred from shifting."

"I'll try and find a way out for you," Hector said pointedly.

"No. Keep looking for the disease. We'll be fine."

With another nod, he dematerialized, this time for good, leaving the room pitch black. Damn! Now I wont be able to see Samara coming. That's it. No more scary movies. Cartoons all the way for Simon over here.

My heart rate speed up, causing my pulse to pound in my head. I could hear footsteps. They were coming closer and closer. There was rattling outside the door. I could hear the knob turning.

Since when did Samara use the freaking door?

I nearly screamed at the silhouette in the doorway. Light again filled the room, but this time was from a lantern. Qain came into the room carrying not only that but a stun gun as well. Gee, I guess he doesn't trust us.

Snort.

If judging by his looks, you'd never guess he was evil. From his thick black hair and icy blue eyes, to the tan skin that covered his well-built figure he screamed handsome. He even dawned a little manly stubble. I don't think if I were off killing people I'd remember to shave either.

He vaguely reminded me of someone I knew—someone who just happened to be in the room. I'll give you a hint, it was of the male persuasion and wasn't Jesse. Both had that arrogance about them as if they were better than everyone else.

"Well, well, well," he smirked and set the lantern down. His voice was just as deep and frigid as before. "What have I caught myself this time?"

He eyed each of us carefully. Jesse seemed to intrigue him the most. Hmm. Maybe he's gay. Or bi. Either way, Jesse is taken.

"Oh my," Qain cooed pleasantly. "What do we have here? Jesse, isn't it? Yes. Can't say I've seen you quite so—alive before."

He clicked his tongue then walked over to Saben, and squatted before her.

"After all the parallels we've been to, this is the first where he's alive. It must be eating you up inside, knowing he lived while your precious Jesse died."

My fists involuntarily clenched. Saben didn't say a word, but glared at him. He then focused his bitter eyes on me.

"And you—did you ever stop to think about what it would have felt like to watch him die, knowing it was all your fault?"

"Don't answer him, Suze. That's what he wants. He feeds off pain," Saben begged. I did as I was told and remained quiet.

"I think I should enlighten Susannah on the kinds of things she's been sheltered from here. What do you say, love?" he asked, taking a seat beside Saben and placing his fingers on her temples.

"Don't."

But he did anyway. My eyes reluctantly snapped shut then opened again. Jesse and I were at the hospital after I'd brought his body back with me through time. I was trying to explain what had transpired back when I was in 1850. Yes, you read that right. 1850.

And though it was me that was explaining everything, it wasn't me. I wasn't controlling the words, or thoughts. They were just happened. Like I was living them from a past point of view.

Which I guess I was suppose to be doing. So I could understand. Understand the pain I'd never experience. Understand why Saben was the way she was.

Jesse finally looked at me like he was really seeing me, maybe for the first time since he'd come into the room.

"You really went back?" He stared at me. "To the past? My past?"

I nodded. What was there to say?

He shook his head. "And Paul? I went to the basilica to look for him, but he was gone. You followed him?"

I nodded again.

"I wanted to stop him," I said. "From…from keeping you from dying. But in the end…I couldn't, Jesse. It wasn't right. What Diego did to you. I couldn't let it happen again. So, I told you. And you killed him. You killed Diego. But then there was the fire and…" I looked down at the figure in the bed. I couldn't stifle a sob. "And now I think this is good-bye. I'm sorry, Jesse. I'm so, so sorry."

My vision clouded over again with tears. I couldn't believe any of this was happening. I had always thought of my "gift" as a curse, but never, never had I hated it as much as I did just then. I wished I had never heard of mediators. I wished I had never seen a single ghost. I wished I had never been born.

Then I felt Jesse's hand on my cheek.

"Querida," he said.

He placed his other hand on the bed to balance himself as he leaned across it to kiss me. One last kiss before he was ripped for me forever. I closed my eyes, anticipating the feel of those cool lips against mine. Good-bye, Jesse. Good-bye.

His mouth had barely touched mine, however, when I heard him gasp. He jerked his head from mine and looked down.

His hand had touched his living body's leg.

Something seemed to jolt through him, then. He flared more brightly for a second, his gaze on mine more intense than it had ever been in all the time I'd know him.

And then he was sucked down into his body, like smoke pulled into a fan.

And he was gone.

Oh his body was still there. But the ghost of Jesse –the ghost I had loved—was gone. In his place was….

Nothing. I reached out, desperate to grab some small piece of him, but my hand clutched only air.

Jesse was gone. He was truly gone. He was back inside the body he'd left so long ago….the body that, even as I watched, shuddered all over as if to reject the soul that had just entered it….

Then went as still as death.

I knew then what had happened. Jesse's body had come forward through time, yes. But not his soul, because two souls could not exist in the same dimension. Jesse's body had been without a soul just as, for so many years, Jesse's soul had been without a body.

Now the two were united at last…

But too late. And now I was going to lose them both.

I don't know how long I must have stood there, holding Jesse's hand, gazing at him in utter despair. Long enough, I know, that Father Dominic came back and said, "Don't worry, Susannah, it's all taken care of. Jesse will get the test he needs."

"It doesn't matter," I murmured, still holding his hand…. his cold hand.

"Don't give up hope, Susannah,' Father Dominic said. "Never give up hope."
And that's when I heard a sound that made my heart stop-my, blood run cold, my soul die. A high-pitched beep echoing through the room. I looked to see where it was coming from, and found it was one of the machines hooked up Jesse; the one measuring his pulse. There was a straight horizontal line running across the screen with a large zero flashing above it. It took me a moment to understand what it all meant.

Jesse wasn't dying. He was dead.

I stood there, staring at the spiteful screen, feeling myself become numb. So numb that I didn't even notice the four nurses who'd come into the room and we're trying to defibulate Jesse back to life. So numb that I didn't even feel Father Dominic place a comforting hand on my shoulder. So numb that I couldn't even muster up any more tears to cry.

All I could think was "Jesse's dead. He's really dead. I killed him. I killed the man I love.'

I watched in silence as they continued to defibulate him, each time with no avail. Finally, after four failed attempts, they called it. Time of death 9.52 PM.

Time of death.

The words burned my ears as they echoed in my mind, growing more malicious each time. Time of death. My head was swimming with emotions. Sadness. Loneliness. Regret. Guilt. But only one consumed me.

Anger.

Suddenly, Father Dom's hand felt like a weight trying to hold me down. I shrugged his hand off me and stormed out of the room, utterly livid. There was someone I had to find.

And there he was, in the waiting room, slouching in a plastic, ER chair.

"Suze, what's up? How's he—"

"You," I growled and lunged at him, knocking him out of his seat and to the floor.

"Suze, what the—"

I'd straddled his chest and pinned his arms down with my knees, while my hands wrapped around his throat.

"I told you to leave him alone, but no. You just had to go back and save him. But now he's dead anyway. And now, you're going to join him," I continued, my grip on his neck increasing. Paul, who'd been stunned by my trouncing him, had heard every word I'd said, and his eyes widened. Father Dominic was trying to pull me off of him, but I wouldn't budge. So Paul took his own actions by flipping me onto my back and crushing me with his body.

"He's dead?" he wheezed. By now I was trying to stop crying (when did that start again?), and attempting to wiggle my way out from underneath him. Neither was working. Finally I gave into the tears and Paul squashing me. "Oh God."

"Happy now, Paul? Jesse's out of the picture just like you always wanted. Was it freaking worth it?" I cried as I beat my fists into his sturdy chest. Only I didn't say freaking.

"I wanted him gone, yes. But I never wanted you to watch him die, Suze. I would never do that to you."

Security had been called and this burly officer pulled Paul to his feet. He looked sincere but I still didn't believe him. Paul, I mean.

Father Dominic had Paul drive me home, after we'd found out when the body would be ready for burial. I refused to be in the same vehicle as Paul until the good father pointed out that we'd both arrived in the same car, so it was only logical. Paul kept glancing over at me as he drove me home, but I wouldn't look at him. I was breathing the same air as him—that was torture enough.

"Suze, I truly am sorry," he said, as he pulled into my driveway and turned off my mom's car. He sounded genuine, he really did. But I was still to numb to care.

"You might as well take my tears and put them on ice. As long as you're around, I'll be needing them."

With that I took the keys and got out of the car. I went the my house, not bothering to look back when Paul called my name. I know it's wrong of me, but at the time, I'd hope he'd be run over by a semi on the way home. And that the semi would back up and run him over a few more times, just for a good measure.

After replacing my mom's car keys on the hook, I went up stairs, took a shower, contemplated drowning myself in the shower, and then finally crawled into bed. But as tired as I was, I couldn't sleep. I couldn't even think of sleeping. So I just resorted to hunching myself into a ball and crying. Crying and apologizing to thin air, hoping Jesse would somehow hear me.

I must have said something right in my apologizes, for I suddenly felt a pair of strong arms surround me. I opened my tear saturated eyes. Jesse was next to me on the bed, hugging me tightly. For a minute I thought it was a dream, that Jesse hadn't really died. But then I realized he conveyed the same aura he'd once worn for 150 years. The same aura only ghosts emit .

My tears started flowing freely again. But this time, at least, I wasn't alone.

Suddenly I felt a sharp pain pierce my neck and everything, once again, went black. Admittedly, I am not afraid of the dark. But it is seriously started to get on my nerves, being in the dark all the time. I mean that both literally and figuratively.

When I finally could see again, it was still dark. But this time, instead of being in a dark, pit laden room, I was on the beach. And I was wet. And getting slapped in the face.

"Suze."

Someone was saying my name. Probably the person slapping me. I adjusted my eyes onto them and tried to sit up. Ow, still sore.

"Suze, wake up."

"I ummmmm aaaake."

"Susannah."

"What's going on?" Man my throat was dry. I was freaking wet, but my throat was dry. Go figure. "Why am I wet?"

"Paul threw water on you to try and rouse you."

"Arouse me?" I mumbled. My head was starting to pound. Thump. Thump. Thump.

"Rouse you, Querida. Come on now, up we go," Jesse said softly, helping me to my feet. "Paul, could you go wake Saben, please?"

Paul nodded, I think. Most people's heads go up then down then back up again when they nod. Usually.

Jesse was leading us over to where Paul was, me staggering the entire way. Saben didn't need as much effort to wake. It may possibly have been because she was already awake. Therefore, no effort at all.

"What's that?" I heard Paul ask. The pounding in my head was starting to dull, making it easier to concentrate.

"It's a note," she replied quietly. "From Qain."

"What does it say?"

"I'm going to go find the car," she said and stood up, thrusting the paper at Paul.

"Well, what does it say?" I asked, after he'd skimmed over it. He didn't answer, but urged the note into my hands, then followed after Saben. Jesse, I could tell, was reading over my shoulder.

Wondering why I didn't kill you all, love?
It would take away from my fun.
Besides, I enjoy watching you suffer.

Dun dun dun. Lol. Now review. And if you won't do that, then the least you can do is free the lobsters. Please. Especially the one's with mustaches. Heehee.

I shall try and work on/get Chapter 9 up soon.

•Sam• aka Samster•