This chapter took longer than I wanted it to, but I haven't really been in the mood to write. There's been a death in my family. My grandfather's Aunt. She was ninety five and decided that she was done so she stopped eating and taking her meds. She passed away a couple of days later, so she didn't suffer that much. She's lived on the other side of the country, so I couldn't so to the funeral and I really didn't know her that well anyway since we were on opposite coast and I didn't get to see her that often and I wish things had been different somehow.

And not to long after my Great Great Aunt died, one of my Mom's friends died suddenly.

So now I've been thinking about death and mortality a lot because of this and because my family has been talking about other people they know that died, not to me, just to each other while I've been in the same room. But I have learned some important life lessons. Be aware of what other people in your family have died of and tell your doctor in case it's hereditary, have regular check ups to catch things early, don't live alone, and don't treat chest pain with Tums. Because you will die.

Trivia about this chapter: I pretty much visualize Nathan as looking like the guy that shows up on the Sims 3 store web page when the site is down.

Nicolas D. Lowell is named after Nicolas D. Wolfwood. I just changed the last name.

Dr. Johnathan Elliot is named after Dr. Jonathan Crane and Thomas Elliot. Scarecrow and Hush.

Other names are names that according to the internet were in the south at one time or from one of 's articles about badass people, or from tv tropes when I was caught up in a reading binge.


They searched the main street for John, before heading back to hotel to look. They didn't find John, but what they did find was incredibility bizarre.

"Okay." Bree said as she looked around the hotel lobby. "Okay, I can honestly say I have no idea what the hell is going on."

The lobby was pristine. No cobwebs, no dust, no springs sticking out of the couches.

Clara was just as confused as Bree. "Yeah, that's just, yeah."

"Is something wrong dears?" Lorraine asked, appearing suddenly from the doorway to the hall, looking much better than she had the last time they had seen her.

"Er, no, not really, we were just looking for John, have you seen him?" Clara asked.

"No, I haven't." Lorraine replied. "But that other boy with the glasses is in the dining room."


Nathan was taking apart an old radio at one of the tables in the dining room.

"What are you doing?" Bree asked.

"I think there are enough working parts here to fix the sheriff's radio." he explained. "I just need to find a mic."

"Maybe we could help you find one." Clara suggested, giving Bree a pointed look because magic.

"Yeah, I was thinking maybe the sheriff might know where to find one, but he's in a bad mood and I wanted to wait until he calmed down." Nathan replied.

"I kind of doubt he'd be helpful anyway." Bree muttered. "Have you seen John?"

Something dark flickered in Nathan's eyes. "Yeah, why are you looking for him?"

"He was supposed to meet us at the church." Bree answered.

"What do you need that stoner for?" Nathan replied acidly. "The sheriff arrested him for smoking pot, you'd be better off with someone more useful."

Bree frowned. "Right I almost forgot." she took a mojo bag out of the basket and forced it into Nathan's hands. The dark thing in his eyes disappeared. "Made this for you. Tuck it in one of your pocket's and don't let anyone see it."

Nathan looked bewildered. "What just- I was feeling-"

Bree cut him off. "You weren't yourself." She turned to Clara. "Let's go."

"You aren't going to tell him?" Clara asked.

"No. If he wants to find out he can come along because I'm not going to stop and explain things to everyone when we could be finding a way out of this town." Bree answered.

They headed for the Sheriff's station, Nathan trailing after them like a lost puppy. Bonnie stepped out of the fog and onto the sidewalk in front of them.

"How did it go? Did you find anything?" she questioned.

"Yeah, Pastor Lowell left a letter behind, just in case something happened." Bree replied.

"Really? What did it say?" Bonnie asked.

"He suspected that Lorraine is responsible for what happening with the town and that she murdered some people." Bree replied in a low voice.

Bonnie didn't look surprised. "There were all those rumors... Do you think that Pastor Lowell found some evidence?"

Bree shrugged. "If he did he didn't mention it in his letter."

"So what do you plan to do next?" Bonnie asked.

"We're going to the Sheriff's station." Clara answered. "John was arrested and Nathan thinks he can fix the radio."

"That's good." Bonnie replied. "I mean about the radio getting fixed. It's too bad about your friend."

"Yeah. We're going to see what we can do for him." Clara said.

"Well, be careful around Sheriff Vogel." Bonnie warned. "He's known to have a temper."

Bree nodded. "We will, thanks."


"Did she look different to you?" Clara asked after Bonnie had left. "I mean, like, better."

"Yeah." Bree replied. "It seems like everything important in this town slowly deteriorates and then snaps back."

Clara's nose wrinkled. "You don't think that everything will started rotting again, do you?"

"At this point I'm open to anything." Bree responded.

"I'm completely confused." Nathan stated.

"Join the club." Bree told him.


The sheriff's station was a rather simple looking brick building. Bree was reminded a bit of the Andy Griffith Show when she stepped in. It was obviously built for a small town that didn't experience a lot of crime.

John was in one of the cells, lying on a cot with his back to the door.

"You okay John?" Clara asked.

John didn't move. "I'm fine." he muttered.

"You going to start working on the radio now?" Bree asked Nathan.

"Y-yeah." he stuttered out, still looking confused as her approached the desk with the radio and got to work.

Bree put a line of salt across the doorway and started doing the same for the windows.

"What are you doing?" Clara asked.

"Securing the building." Bree replied. "Whatever's out there, I don't want it getting in here. It's not as effective as Pastor Lowell's wards, but it should be fine for now."

She went through the rest of the building, looking for doors and windows that needed a line of salt. Fortunately it wasn't that large of a building and it didn't take long for Bree to finish and return to the main room.

"John won't react to anything I say at all." Clara told her.

Bree walked up to the cell door and opened it with a muttered alhomora. The sound of the hinges creaking made Nathan look up.

"Are you supposed to be be doing that?" he asked as Bree walked into the cell.

"Probably not." Bree replied. "But it needs to be done." She grimaced when she saw John's face.

"Man that sheriff sure did a number on you."

"So what?" John mumbled.

"So, you look like a panda." Bree replied.

"Doesn't matter." John replied.

"Really?" Bree questioned, because I'd be pissed off."

"Nothing matters." John mumbled.

"So you're just going to lie here in this cell, until you die?" Bree asked.

"Yes." John replied.

"You know, I have something for you." Bree commented. John didn't stir. Bree pulled a mojo bag out of her basket and put it in his hand.

John blinked, then sat up looking confused. "What?"

"Yeah, Nathan had pretty much the same reaction." Bree told him. "Those things seem to be pretty effective, put it in your pocket and don't let anyone else see it."

"Why?" John asked.

"It's shy." Bree explained. John didn't seem to get it, but did what she asked anyway.

Bree exited the cell. "How's it going Nathan?"

"I think I'll be done pretty soon." he replied.

"Right, I'm going to head down to the clinic. It shouldn't take to long. Stay inside until I get back and don't touch the lines of salt I put down. If someone comes along and refuses to come inside until the salt is clean up don't let them in." Bree slipped Clara a jar of medicine she'd gotten from Mama as she passed her.

"Put that on John's bruises." she instructed.


The clinic look absolutely pristine when Bree walked in.

"Oh, Shauna! Is there something I can help with?" Bonnie asked.

"Is Dr. Elliot here?" Bree questioned.

"No, he went to make a house call." Bonnie answered.

"Good." Bree replied. "Please show me which room the driver was put in. I want to see him."

Bonnie seemed hesitant for a moment, but led Bree to a room in the back.

"He woke up earlier." Bonnie explained. "Just long enough to eat something and use the restroom."

Bree frowned. "Bonnie, I need you to turn around."

Bonnie looked surprised. "What! Why?"

"Because mojo bags are shy." Bree responded.

"Mojo? Oh! Okay." Bonnie said before turning around. Bree slipped one of the mojo bags into the drivers pocket and then left the room.

"Where did you get mojo bags?" Bonnie questioned as she followed.

"I made them." Bree replied. "You said people tend to disappear after getting stuck in this town and I found the recipe in the pastors house, so I thought I'd give it a try."

Bonnie looked thoughtful. "He asked to help make some not long before he disappeared."

"I see." Bree responded. "Thank you Bonnie."


Sheriff Vogel was standing in front of the station door when Bree got back, shouting at the top of his lungs.

"Somebody better clean up this damn salt or else I'll-"

"Excuse me Sheriff!" Bree interrupted. "If you let me by I'll be happy to get a broom and sweep this up for you."

Vogel stepped aside and let Bree pass. As soon as she was over the salt line she turned around.

"Why don't you come in and sit down while I clean up?" she asked.

"I'll come in as soon as all that damn salt is cleaned up!" Vogel snapped.

"Oh, so it is what I expected." Bree commented before throwing a handful of salt at the Sheriff. He vanished.

"What just happened?" Nathan questioned fearfully as Bree moved away from the door.

"The Sheriff is a ghost." Bree replied. "I got rid of him for a bit, but he'll be back so we need to work fast. How's it going with the radio?"

"I'm pretty much done, I just need a mic." Nathan answered.

"John and I look, but couldn't find anything useful." Clara said.

"We did find one locked desk drawer." John added, his bruises were almost completely healed.

"Can you show me?" Bree requested.

John pointed it out and Bree unlocked the drawer and opened it. Inside was the mic and all the other pieces missing from the radio.

"How does a stick unlock a drawer?" Nathan questioned as he took the mic.

"Magic." Bree answered.

"If you don't want to answer that's fine, there's no need to be sarcastic." Nathan muttered as he got the mic working.

Bree frowned. "I wasn't being sarcastic."

"Right." Nathan replied. "I think it should work now... Uh, testing, can anyone hear me?"

A blast of static was the only reply.

Nathan fiddled with the knobs and tried again. "Hello, can you here me?"

There was more static, but that time there was a voice buried in it.

Nathan turned the knobs again. "Hello, are you there?"

A female voice replied, broken partially by static. "Come t- the -ear-e."

"Could you repeat that please?" Nathan asked.

There was a brief pause before the voice answered much more clearly. "Come to the cemetery."


"We're not going to do it right?" Nathan questioned. "I mean, it could be a trap."

"It could also be an opportunity to find out more about this town." Clara pointed out.

"It's better then waiting here until the Sheriff comes back." John stated.

"No it, isn't." Nathan protested. "We're safe here, the Sheriff can't get past the salt."

"That's not a long term solution, we don't have any resources and all our stuff is back at the hotel." John pointed out.

"And we can't just leave Carolina, Tony, and the driver out there." Clara added.

"It would probably be best to hole up at the parsonage since it seems to be the only place unaffected by whatever is going on in this town." Bree stated.

"I think we should split up." John stated. "Nathan and I can move the driver and you girls can go get Carolina and Tony."

"That's a bad idea!" Nathan protested. "Haven't you ever watched a horror movie? You never split up unless you want the killer to get you!"

"No one has died." Bree pointed out. "Well, except the people before us who just disappeared, they're probably dead."

"So a bunch of people are dead, we have no idea how they died, and you want to split up?" Nathan questioned.

"Fine, let's go to our hotel, get our stuff and Tony and Carolina and then we'll go to the clinic and get the driver." Bree stated.


Everyone in their small group had gotten their stuff from their room before going to Tony and Carolina's room. No one wanted to open the door because of the noises coming from inside the room.

"Someone has to open it." Bree stated.

"Maybe we could just wait until they're done." Nathan suggested.

"Bonnie said that guests of the hotel start exhibiting distinctive personality shifts before they disappeared. You started acting like a jerk and John wouldn't get out of bed, so I think that they're not going to stop until they die of exhaustion." Bree told him.

"Maybe we should get a bucket of water." John said.

"I've got it covered." Bree replied. "Let's get this over with. You stay here Clara."

John broke down the door and what followed was a frenzy of yelling, forced separation via magic, more yelling, a jet of water, hurried dressing, and in the chaos Bree had gotten Tony and Carolina their mojo bags.

"What just- I don't understand." Tony said.

"I know the feeling." John replied. Get your stuff and let's go we'll explain on the way."


Tony and Carolina were hesitant to accept the explanation for the strange going on in the town, which was understandable since the explanation could be summarized in one word and "ghosts" wasn't deemed an acceptable answer and even though Bree had used magic in Tony and Carolina's hotel room Clara couldn't convince anyone that Bree was a magi since everyone had been to distracted at the time. And then Bree levitated an abandoned car.

"Nothing is impossible, just highly improbable. Now pick your jaws up off the ground we have work to do." She told her stunned audience before continuing on toward the clinic. It was slow going since Tony and Carolina were exhausted and after Bree's demonstration everyone but Clara started asking questions all at once.

"How does it work?"

"Can you teach me?"

"What else can you do?"

"Why didn't you just use magic to fix the bus?"

"Why didn't you tell us sooner?"

Bree pinched the bridge of what was technically Shauna's nose and sighed. "It's technically manipulation of the earth's energy. No, you have to be born with it. Too many things to list right now. I know basic repair spells, but a bus is too complex for those. And finally, because it's illegal, but this is an emergency situation. Now can we please go to the clinic, I'll answer any other questions when we get to the church."


"You have some nerve coming back here after what you did!" Bonnie shouted as soon as Bree entered the clinic.

"What are you talking about?" Bree questioned.

"Doctor Elliot was furious when he came back!" Bonnie exclaimed.

"Why?" Bree asked.

"Because of the mojo bag you left." Bonnie answered.

"So he saw it?" Bree said.

"No." Bonnie replied.

"Then how did he know it was there?" Bree asked.

"He- I don't know." Bonnie stated. "He just got really angry and started shouting."

"Sounds a lot like the Sheriff." John muttered.

Bonnie looked surprised, she'd been so focused on Bree that she hadn't noticed the others come in. "Did the Sheriff let you out?"

"No. Shauna did." Nathan replied.

His answer clearly alarmed Bonnie. "You should go back, maybe if you hurry he won't notice you left."

"It's kind of too late for that." Bree said. "And anyway, we need all the help we can get getting out of this town."

"I don't know." Bonnie responded. "I starting to think this was a bad idea, maybe if you move out of the hotel and just avoid upsetting anyone you'll survive."

"We're already planning to move into the parsonage, we're just here to get the driver." John told her.

"But if you do that what will I tell Doctor Elliot?" Bonnie asked worriedly.

"People disappear in this town all the time right? Just tell him that when you went to check on the driver the bed was empty." Bree answered.

"Alright I guess I can do that." Bonnie said.

"Good." Bree replied. "You got any wheelchairs?"

"In the storage closet." Bonnie answered.

John had Tony and Nathan help him. They got the wheelchair and went into the back room, leaving the girls alone in the lobby.

"Hey Bonnie, I've been wondering, what do you eat around here?" Clara asked.

"Um, food?" Bonnie replied, caught off guard by the questioned.

"From where?" Clara pushed.

"The grocery store." Bonnie answered.

"But all the stores are closed." Carolina pointed out.

"I meant the store in the next town over." Bonnie said quickly.

"But I thought you wanted to leave this town for good." Clara replied.

"I do." Bonnie said.

Clara frowned. "But the only people that can leave this town are the ones that intend to come back so-"

"Clara! Just drop it! It's not important." Bree interrupted.

"I think it's important, how are we supposed to get food?" Carolina whined.

"There's a garden at the parsonage." Bree answered. "Clara just don't-don't do that."

"But I-"

"Don't."

It wasn't long before the guys came out with the driver. They said their goodbyes to Bonnie and then headed to the parsonage.

"Why did you stop me?" Clara demanded once they were safely within the church grounds. Clara and Bree were once again harvesting vegetables in the garden, this time joined by Nathan. John had remained inside to tend to the driver, who would probably be waking up soon, and to make sure Tony and Carolina were drinking enough fluids since it was discovered that they were both suffering from dehydration.

"Because you were doing something extremely stupid." Bree replied.

"But she's in denial." Clara stated.

"Yes she is." Bree agreed.

"I was just trying to make her see-" Bree cut Clara off.

"You were going to make her angry."

Clara shrugged. "So?"

"So?" Bree repeated angrily. "She could have attacked."

"But she's dead." Clara replied.

"Wait, what do you mean she's dead?" Nathan questioned.

"Everyone in this town is, not just the Sheriff." Bree answered.

"I think-I think this is a conversation we should have with the others." Nathan sputtered.


The kitchen table wasn't big enough for everyone so John and Nathan sat in the living room. Bree and John were the first to finish eating and since it was starting to get dark she used lumos to search the basement for candles or a lamp while John searched upstairs.

No light reached the basement and even with Bree's spell visibility was poor. After searching for a while and only finding canned goods she was getting a bit frustrated. She needed a brighter light but the more powerful variants of the lumos spell would be overkill in such a small space, she just wanted the one she was using to be brighter. And maybe it could be.

She closed her eyes for a moment, focusing on her magic. She felt it moving from her core, up into her arm and then into her wand. She increased the flow and opened her eye. The light from her wand had gotten brighter and she could see the whole basement.

"I wish I hadn't done that." she muttered to herself. Her light dimmed slightly, but remained brighter then it had been at first.

The walls were covered in erratic writing. Bree looked around, reading some of what had been written on each wall.

I don't want to die. Don't want to die. Won't let myself die.

No more.

It's too quiet in the light. Tick tock goes the clock. Tick tock goes the clock.

It eats. It eats. It uses the fog to trap us and then it eats.

And now it's time for one last bow
Like all your other selves
Eleven's hour is over now
The clock is striking Twelve's.

It's just a tv show. Just a tv show.

Demons are real.

Prices manifest.

Run. Run and remember. First there were three, now there's just me. They're coming from the dark. Most important advice.

I open at the close.

It watches It watches It watches It watches It waits

I can feel it watching me at night. As above, so below.

I'll tell you something funny...

The stars are going out.

How many have been infected? How many could be watching?

Six wings. Four faces.

Just a show. Just a show. Just a show.

All the broken pieces.

Don't let go. Never let go.

Run. Run. Run. RUN!

I can feel something under my skin.

Never trust a pirate.

Madness and brilliance. Brilliantly mad?

Echoes. It echoes. Echoes in my head. Stars and wolves and memories that aren't echoing in my head. Burning in my head.

It comes at night. Stays out of sight, It's never safe, even in the light.

It's moving at the back of my neck. Burning in my mind.

She stopped reading when she saw a brown stain that looked like it might have been a spray of blood. She followed it down to a skeleton in rotting flared jeans slumped against the wall next to a lantern.

"Right. I'm just going to take that." She said, carefully picking up the lamp without touching the skeleton.

She headed for the basement stairs, but stopped when she saw the door. It looked like something had attacked it and left deep gouges in the wood and there crumpled on the stairs was a creature. Even though it was partially decayed Bree could still see what it was. It looked like a cross between a centipede and a tapeworm.

Bree's eyes widened and she looked around again.

Hello Draco!

"Oh." she said. "Oh crap."


"So Clara." Bree began as she set the lamp down on the kitchen table. "When you went down there earlier what did you use for a light?"

"Er- My cell phone, why?" Clara replied.

"Just wondering how you missed the dead guy." Bree answered.

"There's a dead guy down there!?" Nathan exclaimed.

"Yeah, and it looks like he lost his mind." Bree told him.

"Oh hey, you found a lamp." John said as he entered the kitchen. "That's good because I found some lamp oil."

"She also found a dead guy." Tony stated.

"Really?" John asked.

"Yep." Bree responded. "From what I saw written on the walls, I think he was hiding down there."

"He wrote things?" John asked. "Was it anything useful?"

Bree shrugged. "I didn't read all of it, but he was worried about something watching him, which is probably why he is in the basement."

"Maybe we should take a look." John suggested.

"I'm not going." Carolina stated.

"I think we should talk about what Shauna said before first." Nathan stated. "What did you mean when you said that everyone in this town is dead."

"This." Bree replied as she pulled out an old newspaper clippings she had gotten off the pastor's desk.

"It's about the mill burning down." Tony said.

"Check the date." Bree told him.

Tony frowned. "This was decades ago."

"But everyone claims to have lived here before that happened." Bree pointed out.

"So? They could be lying." Carolina replied.

"They could, but you're ignoring everything else. Like their constantly changing appearances and your sudden personality changes that where negated by the mojo bags. And then their was the sheriff not being able to cross a line of salt and disappearing when he got hit with some." Bree told her.

"You should have opened with that." Tony stared.

"So anyway, that's why I didn't want Clara to antagonize Bonnie, because ghosts can be dangerous." Bree explained.

"But you have magic." Clara responded.

"Yes Clara, I have magic." Bree started slowly. "What's your point?"

"You have spells that could work and you know all about this sort of thing." Clara said.

"There are no spells for ghosts!" Bree exclaimed. "Don't just assume things about magic without asking first."

"Sorry." Clara said quietly. "I just thought that if Bonnie could remember how she died it might be helpful."

Bree sighed. "That information is not worth the risk. Let's just go to the basement and see is there's a scrap of anything useful down there."


Bree led Clara, John, and Tony down into the basement and showed them the skeleton.

"Okay. Wow. Glad I didn't see any of this when I was down here by myself." Clara stated.

"It looks like he was becoming increasingly paranoid the longer he was here." John stated.

"Yeah well, he talks about people being eaten so I think he had a good reason." Tony replied.

"You were born to save the Doctor." Clara said.

"What?" Bree asked incredulously.

"Right here, that's what it says." Clara answered, pointing out a section of the wall.

"So," Bree began "I think what's relevant to us is where it talks about it being to quiet during they day and being watched at night."

"Yeah, it also looks like there are some warnings and apologies in there too." John replied. "Seems like he blamed himself for something. Maybe not being able to save whoever he was with."

"Over here it's just a lot of begging to go home." Clara said. "Poor thing."

"What the hell is that!" Tony exclaimed suddenly, pointing at the creature on the stairs.

"Oh, that's, that's what killed him." Bree replied, feeling a little awkward as she rubbed the back of her neck, feeling for a scar that wasn't there since she was still under the effects of polyjuice.

"How do you know that?" Tony asked.

"It's a very rare parasite that I am quite familiar with." Bree answered.

"So it's some kind of magic thing." Tony stated.

Bree nodded. "Yeah."


"It doesn't feel right just leaving him down there." Clara said after they left the basement.

"There's probably a shovel in the gardening shed." Bree replied. "And we need one to dig a latrine anyway."

"I am not doing that in a hole in the ground!" Carolina protested.

"Well, I hop you can hold it since the plumbing doesn't work here." Bree told her. Carolina turned red but said nothing.


A grave was dug next to the garden. The skeleton was wrapped in a spare sheet, carefully taken outside and buried. The grave was marked with a small pile of stones and some flowers that Clara had collected.

John started digging the latrine while everyone else went to set up a place to sleep for the night.

Bree had just finished layering cushioning charms on the floor when John came in, carrying a dirty wooden box.

"Found this while I was digging." He explained.

"Well, we've got everything set up here for the night." Tony said. "Let's open it."

John set box on the kitchen table and everyone crowed around. The sun had set and only Bree's wandlight illuminated the room. John got the box open with a penknife. Inside were a few worn leather bound journals, a large gold coin, and a note.

Coin found at Sheriff's station, if that means anything.

"This coin is weird." Clara stated as she handed the object in question over to Bree. It had a picture of a bear on one side, the name Amon was etched in on the other side and it was blacked around the edges.

Tony flipped through on of the journal. "It looks like someone was writing a novel."

"This one says that a therapist wanted the writing to keep a journal." Nathan said.

"They're numbered, so what's the last entry of the most recent journal?" John asked.

Everyone looked for the most recent journal, but it was Clara who found it.

"Here it is!" She announced, searching for the latest entry. "Ah ha! Last one. It looks like the date is just a bunch of question marks... I guess he lost track of time."

"Please just get on with it." Carolina said.

"Right um, Do you here the Whisper men? The Whisper men are near. If you hear the Whisper men then turn away your ear. Do not hear the Whisper men, whatever else you do! For if you hear the Whisper men, they'll stop and look at you." Clara read. " The girl who died, he tried to save. She'll die again inside his grave."

"Well that's kind of creepy." Nathan commented.

"Oh hush, I'm not done." Clara told him. "She's shouldn't be possible you know, and you should have never met her. She's a fragment, of that stubborn Souffle girl- there aren't any eggs in the asylum, she should have caught on sooner- she an echo. Echoes, echo, echoing. Bad wolf bad wolf bad wolf bad wolf. She wanted to save him. She didn't listen to the river- they don't have a word for pond- she had to save because- This man must fall as all men must. The fate of all is always dust. The man who lies will lie no more. When this man lies at Trenzalore- and the doctor is dying, please please help."

Bree had gotten very tense as Clara read. The words were stirring up something in the farthest corner of her mind and the last time that had happened had been at the monastery.

Clara continued reading, oblivious to Bree's growing discomfort. She doesn't know where she is. She doesn't know where she's been, or where she's going. She's just running without a purpose. She's just one of millions trying to fulfill the wish of the original. But not of all of them get to because they never cross paths with him and they die unfilled. She has no idea where she is or what she's doing and she'll die without ever meeting the Doctor. Isn't that right Clara?"

Clara's eyes widened and she dropped the book on the table. John picked it up and read.

"It really says that."

"Maybe we should stop reading, before something bad happens." Nathan suggested shakily.

"Yeah, let's all just go to sleep." John agreed.


John had decided to sleep upstairs on the bedroom floor so he could keep an eye on the driver. Everyone else was camped out in the sitting room, which wasn't that bad since Bree had used enlarging charms on the pillows that had found and cushioning charms on the floor for those not lucky enough to get a couch.

Bree couldn't sleep so she took the journals to the first floor office and sat down at the desk to read, starting with the first one.

No one has ever heard of the books I like to read or the shows I like to watch. They say I'm making them all up. Mom said I should right it all down since they sound like interesting ideas. I will write them down, but only so it will be easier for everyone to see I was right when I find the originals.

So this one starts with a girl on a train. She's headed for a new school and she's very nervous because she was bullied at her old school and called a liar for making things up. On the train she meets a boy who insults and threatens her so she slaps him. A pair of red headed twins and their friend hear the altercation and run the boy off before congratulating the girl for slapping him.

Bree's breathing hitched and she started flipping though journals and skimming the pages to get a general idea what was written.

She started sending anonymous and bizarre threats to her friend abusive relatives.

-drove her teacher to drink. He was more likable that way.

My therapist says it's a good idea to continue writing "my" stories but also to start writing down any odd thoughts.

A lonely old man sits alone in a box, he flips a switch and a wheezing sound fills the air. He can go anywhere in time and space, but he doesn't like to do it alone so he picks up companions. Friends who travel with him until they don't anymore. He saves planets, cities and people.

Two brothers travel down the highway in a sleek black car. They have people to save and monsters to kill.

She's the most terrified she's ever been in her young life. More than at the shack when she didn't know the intentions of an escaped prisoner. More than in the graveyard, facing down a madman. No one died those times, but now in the monastery-

I'm the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition.

An army doctor tries to readjust to civilian life and meets a detective.

He wishes he had gone with her instead of letting them send her off on her own. Maybe he could have saved her from the deranged clown that took her life. He mourns her and refuses comfort from family and friends. He throws in himself into his work and starts behaving more recklessly in battle. He has the protection she gave him after all. But what he doesn't know is that her death was faked and that every time he acts recklessly he-\

"Bree?" Clara's voice interrupted Bree's reading. "Why are you still awake?"

"I was reading." Bree replied as she shut the journal and put it down. "It's not just you in there."

"He wrote to you?" Clara asked as she sat down in a chair meant for churchgoers that needed advice or counseling..

"He wrote about me. My life's story." Bree corrected.

"So then, he could see the future." Clara said.

Bree frowned. "More like he was forced to see. That's what the parasite he was infected with does to people. It shows them the past, present, and future makes them remember events they've never witnessed and then makes them think it's all fiction just so it can feed on the energy it takes to store memories."

"That doesn't sound so bad, I mean, you could probably make some money writing fiction novels that way." Clara replied.

"Not when you think it was all written by someone else, and no one believes and they start thinking your insane, and it turns out you are because the worm has wired your brain to think differently from everybody else so that it can store more memories so it can feed and then if the information overload doesn't kill you the worm tearing itself away from your brain stem and bursting out of your neck will." Bree ranted.

"But what if a doctor caught it early, like in a scan or an x-ray?" Clara questioned.

"Then the worm would make them forget." Bree replied. "The only way to remove a psychic worm is to knock out the worm and the host and take the to surgery before either wakes up. Then if you want the host the survive the removal of the worm you have to have a psychic put some blocks in their mind otherwise the modified neural pathways will bring in unregulated information and the host will go insane and die from information overload."

"You-" Clara hesitated for a moment. "You know a lot about it."

"Of course I do. I was infected by one." Bree replied. "But the Doctor saved me."

She reached up and rubbed at her neck. Since she was actually herself this time the scar was there.

"Was he the same Doctor that I'm apparently never going to meet?" Clara asked.

"Yes, I think so." Bree answered. "But I remember it differently."

"And by that you mean..." Clara pushed.

"Well, Clara Oswin Oswald, I'm not quite sure, but I think I remember you." Bree stated.

Clara looked surprised. "I never told you my name."

Bree smiled. "So you didn't."

"So then, you know what happens to me." Clara said eagerly.

"Maybe I did once, but I've forgotten since then." Bree told her.

"You forgot?" Clara repeated disbelievingly.

Bree frowned and looked away from Clara. "Memories of the past, present, and future all stuffed inside my head all the good and all the bad. But there's nothing I can do to stop the bad and I'm too far away from any of it to enjoy the good. I could of been driven insane by it all. It's still there inside my head and there's something about you that sets it buzzing, but I don't go poking around in there. It's dangerous... But if it makes you feel better, when I heard you read that journal entry I thought it was wrong, because the reason I remember you full name is because I remember the Doctor saying it."

Clara smiled happily. "So you really think I'll get to meet him? Who is he? What's he like? I mean, he definitively sounds important, I want to know more."

And so Bree told Clara everything she could about the goblin, the trickster, the madman with a blue box, the oncoming storm, and the most terrifying thing in the cosmos. And by the end of it, Clara was enthralled.

"When we finally leave this town, let's travel together." Clara suggested excitedly. "We're both running, we can run together and you can introduce me to the Doctor."

"It'll be dangerous." Bree stated.

"So? This is dangerous and I'm handling it and if I'm going to be meeting the Doctor I'll have to get used to danger." Clara replied. "But I want to go with you, I just feel like, after all this time, I've finally found what I'm running to."

Bree thought for a moment before replying. Miss Zibi said she's have an opportunity for a team up. Maybe this was it.

"Okay Clara. We'll run together."

A sudden thump and muffled voices startled them.

"Should we go check on John?" Clara asked.

"Yeah." Bree replied as she got up. She took a swig of polyjuice before heading to the stairs.

The driver was awake and confused.

"Sir, I need you to sit hit your head and were unconscious for awhile." John said as he kept the driver steady.

"Where are we?" the driver asked. "There was- there was a doctor."

"Just sit and we'll explain everything." Clara said soothingly as she helped John get the driver to sit on the bed.

"Okay. First I need to ask you a few questions." John said in a clear and gentle tone. "Do you remember your name?"

"It's Louis." The driver replied.

"Louis, my name is John, this is Clara, and over here we have Shauna." John stated, pointing out each girl as he introduced them. "Now, can you tell us if you remember what happened?"

Louis frowned and thought for a moment. "I was driving my bus, I think you three were on it, the road got foggy and I couldn't tell where we were and something run out in the road, a person, and I swerved and then, and then- what happened to the other people on my bus, are they alright?"

"They're fine." Clara assured him. "they're downstairs sleeping.

"What did the person look like?" Bree asked.

"Er-what?" Louis responded.

"What did the person who ran into the road look like?" Bree questioned.

"I didn't really see them well because of the fog." Louis answered. "Whoever it was just looked like a shadow."

"You mean like that?" Bree inquired, pointing out the window. Standing just at the edge of the property line was a dark humanoid figure. It's form was solid, and yet seemed to shift and writhe, causing it's silhouette to waver indistinctly around the edges. It seemed to sense them watching and looked up at them, though it had a featureless face there was still a wait to it's gaze that sent chills up the spines of everyone it looked at.

A tear appeared on it's face where it's mouth should have been, revealing sharp black teeth. Black goo dripped down it's chin and onto the ground. It opened it's jaws wide and let out an inhuman screech made up of many voices before dissolving into black smoke and vanishing into the fog.

"What was that?" Louis asked fearfully.

"That's what's keeping us trapped in this town." Bree replied. They heard movement and muffled voices from downstairs.

"We'd better go tell them what happened." John said.

"Take Louis down with you." Bree ordered. "Clara and I will bring the the mattress and blankets down. Considering what we found in the basement, I think it's a bad idea to leave anyone alone."

John nodded and helped the driver down the stairs.

"Are we going to be alright?" Clara asked once they were gone.

"Yes." Bree answered.

"Is that a lie?" Clara asked.

Bree didn't answered right away. "Maybe. I can't really promise alright. But trust me, I'll do everything in my power to make sure everyone makes it out of this alive... But just remember that alive is not necessarily alright. You can be physically alright but mentally... By the time this is over you might change your mind about going with me."

Clara shook her head. "No I won't. I mean, the Doctor has faced monsters worse than this right? So I'll have to be prepared."


After getting everyone calmed down and rearranging the sitting room to fit everybody, Bree waited for everyone to fall asleep and for the polyjuice to were off before changing into her animagus form and curling up to sleep herself.

She was running, running, running. Not fast enough, never fast enough. Mad laughter turning into something high and cold. Running, running onto the wooden deck of a ship. Ship was being tossed around by waves. Shouting drowned out by the wind and rain and waves breaking over the deck. Salt spary in her face, overboard. Choking, can't breathe.

"You're going to be alright."

Liar, liar, liar, liar.

Drowning, can't swim. Limbs too heavy, being dragged down, down, down.

"'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves."

Bree groaned and rolled over in the grass.

"Did gyre and gimble in the wabe."

Bree opened her eyes and found Not-Bree looming over her. Not-Bree had pink and purple highlights in her silvery blond hair. She was wearing an asymmetrical purple jacket with a high collar over a short magenta dress along with magenta wedge heeled boots.

"All mimsy were the borogoves, and the mome raths outgrabe." Not-Bree contiuned menacingly. "Beware the Jabberwock, my son!The jaws that bite, the claws that catch! Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun the frumious Bandersnatch!"

Bree pushed Not-Bree away, stood up, and looked around. They were at the Chessboard Battlefield. Red Queen-Bree was alone on the board, sitting at a round table covered with a white table cloth. Hooded black figures stood on the other side, a few smashed to bits, with Voldemort commanding from the sidelines. Water was pooling on the board, seeping up from cracks in the stone.

"He took his vorpal sword in hand:" Not-Bree raised the sword Bree had gotten from the auction in Gotham. "Long time the manxome foe he sought— so rested he by the Tumtum tree, and stood awhile in thought. And as in uffish thought he stood, the Jabberwock, with eyes of flame, came whiffling through the tulgey wood, and burbled as it came!"

Not-Bree began dueling with an imaginary opponent with an experts finesse.

"One, two! One, two! and through and through the vorpal blade went snicker-snack! He left it dead, and with its head he went galumphing back." She raised the sword above her head. "And hast thou slain the Jabberwock? Come to my arms, my beamish boy! O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay! He chortled in his joy." She lowered the blade and grinned at Bree. "'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves did gyre and gimble in the wabe; All mimsy were the borogoves, and the mome raths outgrabe."

"This is what I get for not taking the sleeping potion." Bree stated. She started walking away from Not-Bree

"Aw don't you like that one?" Not-Bree pouted as she caught up with Bree. "Well then, how about this one? Snowmen. Daleks, in the sun. Snowmen. Daleks. You should run. Shadows keep me up at night. Angels give me quite a fright. Count her endings, one and two. Check the memories you once knew."

"That is a terrible idea." Bree replied. "They're tucked away for a reason, remember."

"I remember better than you do since I'm in here all the time." Not-Bree answered before a terrible sharp-toothed grin spread across her face. "I'm in here all the time. I know your mind better than you do."

"You're a part of my mind, that makes you, me." Bree pointed out.

"So I'm you." Not-Bree stated. "But Alice started out as us and she took on a life of her own."

"Alice was a copy of me, you're a piece of me. There's a difference."

"Right, right." Not-Bree agreed as her tail moved lazily. "I'm just a figment of your imagination."

Bree got irritated. "That's not what I'm saying."

"But you have to agree, this is all happening inside your head." Not-Bree cheerfully replied.

Bree paused and took a look around at the green field, the giant flowers, and the multi-colored mushroom trees.. "So it is." She took another step forward and heard a splashing sound.

"I don't remember a giant puddle before." she told Not-Bree.

"It's more of a small pond really." Not-Bree replied as she examined the body of water.

"What's it doing here?"

"There's a leak." Not-Bree explained."You know with all the stuff going on out there, you haven't really stopped to see what's it's doing in here, which is why I dragged you in here. You can't just keep taking sleeping potions to get rid of the nightmares, you're going to have deal with what's happening inside your head before it's too late."

"What happens if I don't? Do I go crazy?" Bree questioned.

"You're already crazy." Not-Bree informed her. "I was the only sane response to the worms assault. Your mind had to adapt before it broke, that's why you put wonderland inside your head, you needed something that didn't play by conventional rules. A place that could twist and bend without breaking. But there are limits. You can only stretch a rubber band so far before it snaps."

"So what do you want me to do? Seek professional help?" Bree replied acidly.

Not-Bree rolled eyes. "No. Just stop taking the sleeping potion and deal with your nightmares."

"How?" Bree pushed.

Not-Bree shrugged. "It's your head, take back control of it." She smirked. "And I know just where to start." She grabbed Bree and pulled her forward.

Suddenly they were in an opera house, standing on a rickety scaffolding hundreds feet above the stage. Bree clung to the railing.

"Oh, that's right, you're afraid of heights, aren't you?" Not-Bree questioned mockingly.

"Why the hell aren't you?" Bree shouted.

"Because this is all happening inside your mind and I am a part of your mind." Not-Bree replied. She had somehow converted her outfit into and evening look. The jacket had become an asymmetrical dress still over the shorter magenta one. Bree noticed she was back in her red dress with the bottom hacked off..

"You should duck now." Not-Bree advised. Bree did and just managed to avoid getting hit in the head by a crowbar wielded by the Joker.

"Damn it!" Bree exclaimed as she blocked another swing with her sword. The fight went the same way it had the first time, but this time when Bree got the Joker on the floor she left her blade against his neck.

"Excellent! Now you just need to get rid of him!" Not-Bree cheered.

"I can't." Bree protested. "You know that, I tried but he's-"

"I didn't say kill him." Not-Bree pointed out. "Even if he can't die, you can still get him out of the way. Just be creative."

Bree took a deep breath and closed her eyes. "Unbreakable chains, forged in the hearts of a dwarf star. Next a prison made for a trickster." Bree opened her eyes.

She was standing in a dusty stone chamber. The Joker was wrapped in unbreakable chains and sitting inside of the pandorica. Bree withdrew her sword and backed away. The sound of gears moving could be heard as the pandorica closed.

"That's it. Good job!" Not-Bree exclaimed. "But now it's time to wake up."


Bree woke up before anyone else did. She stretched, walked into the kitchen, shifted back to human form, and took a quick sip of polyjuice. She had breakfast, a MRE sandwich, which was really more of a bread pocket with meat in it, and applesauce, then she started waking everyone up.

"Five more minutes!" Carolina whined after Bree had nudged her awake.

"No, we're wasting daylight. Get up." Bree replied, tearing away the blanket Carolina had pulled over her head.

"What daylight? It's raining." Nathan pointed out.

"Only over the church and the parsonage." Bree told him. "The rest of the town is still covered in fog."

"I hate this place. It's so weird." Carolina complained.

"Which is why we need to find a way out of here as soon as possible." Bree responded.

"I have MRE's for everyone!" Clara announced as she walked into the room carrying an armful of packaged food.

"I ate before I got everyone up." Bree stated as Clara began passing out food.

"You really didn't get much sleep, did you?" John asked.

Bree shrugged. "I got enough, I'll be fine. Anyway, we need to decide who's going with me to the cemetery."

"You're not serious, are you?" Nathan questioned.

"It's the only lead we have." Bree replied. "Let's make this a little easier. Raise your hand if you were trained to use a gun."

Bree and John were the only ones who raised their hands.

"What kind of training?" Bree asked.

"I was a combat medic, you?" John replied.

"Defense lessons from my Uncles bodyguard, and what I meant was what kind of gun were you trained to use." Bree answered.

"Why are you asking about guns?" Tony questioned. "We don't have any."

"You don't have any." Bree corrected. "I however have two Glocks and and two sawed off shotguns. Today we'll be using the shotguns, one loaded with salt rounds, one with iron."

"You have shotguns shell's full of salt?" Louis asked incredulously.

"Salt is an excellent ghost deterrent and I've already used salt on some of the goo that shadow leaves behind." Bree explained. "Iron also works on some supernatural entities and I have silver if we need it."

"What about the rest of us?" Carolina asked.

"I have some salt, holy water, and iron bars you can use, but you should be fine as long as you don't leave the property." Bree replied.

"I'm coming too." Clara stated.

"So will I." Nathan volunteered.

"Alright." Bree said. "So I guess that four going and three staying then."

"So now that that's decided, what next?" Clara asked Bree.

"We'll divide the supplies, assign tasks, and head out." Bree answered.

Everything went smoothly until Bree started dividing up food for the away group.

"You're not coming back?" Carolina questioned, an edge of panic in her voice.

"Not for lunch." Bree replied. "But we'll be back before sunset if we can't get this taken care of today."

"Well, what are we supposed to do while you're gone?" Carolina asked.

"Read." Bree replied. "And take note of anything that might be helpful."

With that settled, it wasn't long until they were ready to go. Nathan and Clara both carried iron bars while Bree and John each took a shotgun. Each also carried salt and holy water.

Bree used the point me spell to locate the cemetery and they headed out. It was only raining over the church and the parsonage, but it seemed as if the fog had thickened in an attempt to compete. Everything it touched quickly became chilled and damp. The group had to walk close together so they wouldn't get lost in the fog.

"So what do you think we'll find at the cemetery?" Nathan asked.

"Answers, hopefully." Bree replied.

"But from who?" Nathan pressed. "I mean, if everyone in this town is dead..."

"Not all ghosts are bad." Bree told him. "I've met some nice ones, I mean, that was back in the UK, but still."

"Is there a difference between American ghosts and English ones?" John asked.

"Yeah. English ones are weaker." Bree answered.

"That's a bit weird isn't it? A ghost is a ghost, it shouldn't matter where they died." Clara said.

Bree sighed. "The old world has wards, ancient and powerful magic to control and weaken creatures that may pose a threat to human settlements. The new world doesn't have that so some of the creatures come here to get away and the ones that come here end up stronger than the ones that stay behind."

"And nobody notices?" Nathan questioned disbelievingly.

"They do, but they're dismissed as lunatics and conspiracy nuts, or they're made to forget, or they don't notice in time." Bree paused for a moment. "People go missing all the time and no one really pays attention because it's usually just one or two at a time. A poster goes up, and everyone goes on with their lives. But you know, lions and crocodiles only take one at a time, and the herd just goes on with life."

"You make it sound like people are being hunted." John stated.

Bree looked at him. "They are. Vampires, werewolves, wendigos, crocottas and much, much more. There are a lot of things out there that eat humans and most humans just ignore the signs since it mostly the invisible population that's in danger anyway."

"You mean magi?" Nathan asked.

"No." Bree replied. "I mean the homeless, the poor, and the runaways. They're on the edge of society, the the stragglers of the "herd" so they're the ones more likely to get picked off. Even hunters who specialize in monsters have trouble tracking them until they go after middle class families since it the disappearance of a homeless person rarely makes the news."

Clara gasped. "That's horrible."

"So you're a hunter." John said.

"No, but my Uncle took me out on a hunt once." Bree answered. "A ghost was started causing problems when this family was trying to renovate their house. I passed out when the ghost tried to smother me with cigar smoke."

She grimaced. "Magi aren't really the best hunters since they're more sensitive to spirits and certain creatures than others."

"There it is!" Clara exclaimed, pointing. The cemetery had become visible through the fog. It was enclosed by a rusting wrought iron fence and the gates were open but hanging at angles. Most of the headstones were tilted with spots of moss growing or tendrils of ivy climbing up them. The grass had grown long and was spilling out of the fence and a stone mausoleum loomed over the rest of the cemetery.

"Is it- is it raining over the cemetery?" Nathan asked uncertainly.

"Yeah it is." Bree replied.


More trivia:

1. Not-Bree does not have any scars because she doesn't really have a body and she knows it. She also has no concept of sensation and has only experienced things like pain through Bree's emotional reaction. She knows that pain causes a negative reaction, but trying to explain what it feels like to slam your hand in a door would be like explaining sight to someone born blind. The same goes for Bree's other mental constructs like Red Queen-Bree, who hasn't appeared in awhile.

2. I think of Bree's constructs as something between the different colored Ravens, which represented different aspects of her personality, from the Teen Titans episode "Nevermore" and actual split personalities.

Bree's mind has always been hiding things from her because of the worm's interference. That's probably never going to change, even with the worm gone.

When I first came up with the idea of the psychic worm it wasn't just a way to explain Bree's knowledge of other series that I wanted to include in the story. It was meant to give her an expiration date. The Doctor wasn't supposed to save her, he was just supposed to give her the diagnosis and tell her how long she had left. The reason I thought about doing it that way was so that the story would be more like real life, because in life the only end is death... And it would have left no questions about, well what happened during her adult life? Answer: Nothing. She's dead. No new dark lord. No marriage contact. No romance drama. No seeing her kids off to Hogwarts years later.

I might write the formerly planned ending as a non-canon one shot.

6. I might start writing a series of scenes that could be considered canon, but didn't make it in.

If you haven't figured it out yet, Clara is from Doctor who. She's one of the original Clara's echoes. For those of you that don't watch Doctor Who, here's how it is. The original Clara was sort fragmented into millions of pieces of herself scattered inside the the Doctor's time-line because the bad guy was turning every one of the Doctor's successes into failures. And all the different pieces of Clara have the same goal in mind, even if the don't realize it, and from my understanding of it they aren't really complete people, and the two Clara's that were a major character in an episode, other than the original, died. So I started thinking "What about all the other Clara's, they said there were millions of them, they couldn't have all crossed paths with the Doctor?"

So now we a have teenage runaway version of Clara and Bree has no idea that there are other Clara's out there or that the one's she's with isn't really the one she remembers. So Clara could live, or she could die. Wouldn't be the first time that a Clara has died and that's really the whole point of putting her in the story.