Disclaimer: Well, Mina is the only part of this story that is mine, and she's not in this chapter, so I guess I don't own anything. Oh well. Ain't got no home, ain't got no shoes. Ain't got no money, ain't got no class.

Frank stared moodily at the greenish liquid in the beaker in front of him. It was his fifth minute of staring, and his thirtieth minute of moodiness. He was 99.9% sure that this concoction would work, but not being able to test it on anything worried him.

For the umpteenth time Frank went over in his mind how he knew the potion and its counterpart, which he had already used, would work.

1. Substance A is absorbed into the woodwork of the house, creating the host area

2. I ingest Substance B, binding my life force to the host, AND giving my body an increased preservation time post mortum

3. Death is avoided at all costs

It was a flawless plan, and step one had already been completed. Frank was only worried that step two might contradict step three. Fuck, he thought, fuck.

After about thirty more minutes of moody staring, Frank finally made up his mind. The good outweighs the bad, he thought decidedly. He wished he was as sure as his thoughts. Picking up the beaker, Frank closed his eyes and downed the contents.

God, no! I'm too young! I'm too pretty! Death is not fun! He was blind. He was deaf. He was in pain. He felt like his soul was being stretched across a mile, being pulled up and down with equally vicious force. Just when he thought he could not stand the agony any more, Frank was suddenly looking at his front door from inside the house. All of the furniture was strewn across the room, and most of it was broken. Dust covered everything, and a colony of spiders had built a very well planned civilization.

What the bloody hell... And then he remembered. This room was where he had created the 'host area'. It worked, this definitely means it worked... fifteen years later, by the looks of things. Now, how do I get back to my body? He paused in his thoughts as a crushing realization fell upon him. Oh. Oh, shit. How do I get back to my body? I certainly didn't plan this out very well.

The silence was deafening. A spider crawled very purposefully from one side of the room to the other. A slight breeze disturbed the thick layer of dust.

I didn't plan this out very well at all. Not at all.