• Preface:

    The pen hovered with anticipation over the page as its master grasped it firmly between their thin fingers. Ink dripped and left small pools of pitch against the pristine white of the paper, nullifying its purity and tainting the page. They allowed their creativity to blossom from its usually stifled state and to reign free over its only medium, the unyielding page that awaited.
    They lowered their hand to bring the pen into cataclysmic contact with the white and began, with grace and precision, to etch time and life onto that snowy surface.
    They began to write.


    His footsteps played a incessent rhythm in his head, singing to him in muffled thumps a grim reminder of his fate. The seeping feeling of the prey who knew, with all its instincts shrieking, that the hunter was about to overtake it began crawling like a sickening insect up his spine. The night was bitter and nipped like frost hounds at his heels. He willed his legs faster, but they couldn't move further under the weight of their two important burdens.
    One was his life, and the other was something so much greater then his feeble, flickering, soul.
    He had the book.
    They were pissed, that he could sense even without his eidolic psychs probing the air for feeling. Anyone within a hundred-mile radius could feel reverberations of their indignant fury as they gave chase. He was an idiot. Dad had warned him with his low and fervent voice that he was a fool for even dancing around the subject in his head. This cautioning was now justified as a blood-curdling screech trilled like nails on a chalkboard and induced his ears almost to a state of bleeding.
    Overhead the stars watched noiselessly, spectating the proceedings while still glittering like so many diamond faucets on a dark canvas. Alongside them was the moon with its pristine and sublime light that poured between the knife-like branches and etched monsters into the earth. He had never feared the dark and had never thought of any reason to fear it until he could now see the beasts that lurked beyond his inklings of sight. Another cry sounded through the night, piercing the crisp silence.
    He shot swears into the air in front of him and they backfired with his ghost-breaths. Something twitched for a moment before being lost behind his running and catching up to him in another harmony of rustles. Fear held him in a choke-hold that refused to release him. He just had to drop the book, surely they would let him escape once they had something gargantuan in comparison to tend to. He prayed his fingers would pry loose and leave his dangerous package behind, but they refused.
    He spat on the ground and stopped his running. They were going to catch him anyways, he reasoned with himself, he might as well win a battle by denying them the pleasure of the chase.
    And they did come. With their skin darkened by the night and their eyes fluttering from side to side in instinctive paranoia. One of the girl leaders took a step into the small clearing he had given up in. His breaths rushed through his lunges and his chest rose and fell desperately. She flashed him a small grin of indulgence and opened her mouth to speak.
    "Give it to us." Commanded a slim man as he stepped forward, unconsciously swatting away the females annoyed glare.
    "Sam!" Whined the woman in a shrill tenor. "I was gonna do that."
    He hated the woman already.
    The one named Sam grunted in exasperation before taking another step towards him. The woman watched with her upper-lip jutted out in some sort of pout. If she was hot, he would have gotten over it. But she wasn't so his loathing for her only increased as her piteous display worsened.
    If Sam was supposed to be threatening then he wasn't doing so well. He was a thin man with almost female facial features, right down to the long lashes. It was unnerving to have to face someone especially when he had been duly taught since childhood never to hit a girl.
    But primitive instincts cried into his brain to take flight again knowing that ,albeit the mans fragile exterior, he was someone who would grind an enemies already shattered skull into pulpy remains after a skirmish.
    A few others were shifting uneasily behind a thin veil of darkness and even his sharpened sight couldn't pinpoint their identities. Sam stepped forward again, closing the distance between them each time. He wanted to just hand it over, to get everything done with so he could die in peace. Hope was dim for him after he had made off with their most cherished object.
    The moons descendents didn't take to kindly to cherished objects being made off with, that, he was positively sure of. But if he didn't hold steadfast to the book, how could he ever clear his people of their plague? He would have to shift, something he felt a heightening reluctance at doing. But it had to be done.
    He could feel his very DNA quivering as he activated the hormones that took charge of his inhuman ability. A quick jolt shot pain up his body and he crouched onto the ground, feeling their roots quake from underneath his moulding fingers.
    "He's shifting!" Gasped the annoying one and the others grumbled their displeasure at their new obstacle.
    He heard their anger only vaguely as the change occupied his sight, smell, brain, feeling, emotions, everything human and forced it to coenside with it. Everything was almost done when a savage snarl ripped like a sudden tear through paper out of his now canine throat. Sam backed from his original position and assumed the fighting stance, poised and ready to start the fight.
    He didn't want to fight, so he crouched down as well, feigning exultation while keeping guard over his precious cargo. Sam pulled out a strange pistol from his pocket and held it in the air as a threat. What did he think he was doing? Was he seriously so naive as to believe silver could hurt him?
    He allowed a raucous snort from his lean muzzle and Sams angelic features tightened into a hard mask as his finger twitched against the handle. With one swift movement, he took the book between his jaws and sprang to the side. A gun-shot cried out in the night and rippled through the air, his leg could feel the pain but he merely ignored it and began heading rapidly for the nearby thicket.
    An enraged scream haunted him as he sped through the forest like a beast, not following the set path and plowing through the vegetation with the trained practice of thousands of years.
    Lividity and excitement pulsated through him and he felt a sense of pride at his accomplished escapade.
    He had outsmarted them!

    She was being followed.
    This was something she had realized as she began to constantly notice fleeting forms through her peripherals. Something was dancing just out of her range of sight in hopes of avoiding possible detection and she could feel the chills shuddering up her spine. Since she had started her new life as a person of wealth she had feared kidnaps and ransoms would soon germinate.
    Trinity kept a wary eye on the bushes that surged like formidable phantoms, held back only by the unreliable protection of scenic picket fences. Students passed by in packs as they giggled down the boardwalk that bordered the beach.
    People were surfacing after a long day of work and school to wash away their stresses in the cool reassurances of the sea. Block Island was officially theirs after Summer had left and taken it's throngs of over-eager tourists with it. Leaving the wide streets barren and locals to dominate the beaches before falls bitter vindication struck.
    Trinity looked out onto the large overhang that resembled a gnarled set of jaws over the sea, threatening to engulf anything that dared near. Atop it sat a lone lighthouse that spiralled with its powerful light in a nightly regime. She had visited the lighthouse many times, but had never been to the top of it. Curiosity nibbled like acid and corroded her worries, she would go there sometime soon.
    Her hair, black as pitch, fluttered helplessly in the tart sea breeze and flecked her tan skin softly. Her tan was a solemn reminder of the blistering summer as it faded away like the season and returned to a cold, pale, complexion. She scowled impatiently as a group of "friends" called to her from their group of towels near the water. They called to her and chided her in hopes of getting her to join, she only smiled and nodded her head no. They had spoken several times during class, but she couldn't remember actually sharing any type of mutual friendship with the girls. After they had failed in pulling her into their group, the girls resumed their sun-tanning and Trinity continued down the sand-spackled boardwalk. A blue sky dotted with the odd wailing gull flowed endlessly with the blue of the ocean.
    She would return to her prominent mansion in the gated area of town, and paint her watercolor flowers like usual.

    He was tired and hungry, that was all his dull animal brain could conjure. He could smell the tantalizing odours of food wafting from a street in the
    sea-side town he had taken refuge in. The sky was a clear blue and seagulls crowed down at him as he trotted through the scenic bushes that lined the boardwalk. Only a thin picket fence seperated him from the human world and he wasn't up to chancing such a breach.
    This was why he disliked shifting into his animal form, soon his mind was overrun by smells and sounds his human body couldn't possibly adopt. His jaws tired under supporting the weight of the book and his body almost creaked with every step he managed. He needed a place that was secluded, almost seemingly ostracized from the qaint sea-side village. He looked up to find his prayers answered eerily, there, on top of a large bluff overlooking the sea. Was his home, a lonely light-house.

    Trinity took one look into her expansive house and sighed with relief at her parents usual absence. She always feared walking through her ornate french doors to find her parents sitting on the couch, piercing her and turning her innerds to ice with their smiles that threw blame on her like a mountain. Her step inside the house echoed back from against the platinum white walls. Marble flooring reflected her movement as she pulled of her coat and shoes and headed towards the answering machine. It beeped a silent reminder of any messages she had received. Annabelle pressed the voicemail button and the machine shuddered into life before relaying the message.
    "Hey! It's Blake!" Thundered a voice. "Just checking in on you, wondering where you are. Uh... well, I want you to come back to school, Annabelle. It's boring without you and I know your conforming to emo-ness but I'd like for you to atleast call every once in a while." An inebriated yell and the sound of something shattering loudly interrupted him, he cursed audibly and yelled a blunt shut up to his companions.
    "Sorry about that. That was Keiden. Well, just call me back, I guess. See ya later, Annabelle. Oh, wait! Crap! I almost forgot to ask you if you wanted to come to the Autumn Festival tonight! Give me a call if you're interested. See ya, for real this time." A sharp laugh was cut of as the machine clicked and the message was over.
    Annabelle rolled her eyes in exasperation before heading into the kitchen and grabbing a box of cereal. Didn't they know she wasn't going emo? She seethed openly as she poured the solid flakes into her bowl and doused it in milk. It was for their own good that she was keeping at a distance, they didn't know how she felt.
    Having to walk through the surging veins of the school, students rushing like blood and bumping into her. Inadvertantly causing her to witness lightning fast flickerings of their near futures. Annabelle couldn't explain her unnatural clairvoyance to them without being locked up with a straight-jacket. It just wasn't done. And because of her sudden break from drinking with him, Blake was hounding her by exhausting her answering machine with short-lived messages not unlike the latter. Couldn't they turn those rusty old gears in their heads to figure out that maybe, just maybe, she was staying away from them for their own good?
    It made Annabelle furious. So furious that she picked up the phone and dialled the once familiar number, her fingers moving almost unconciously towards the correct buttons.

    The stairs were numbingly tall, he thought in exasperation as he gazed up the winding lighthouse. The blood from the gun wound on his leg had ceased its running a long time ago and had now formed into a dry mat against his silver fur. But it still throbbed viciously whenever he moved it so he had contented himself with a pleasant limp.
    He started up the steps and his new, longer, tongue lolled out of his slender muzzle. It would be a long climb but once he found his way to the top of the vast structure, he would be safe enough to take a nice long nap. The thought of resting fuelled his efforts and he clambered steadily up the decrepit staircase. They should've installed elevators! It's the freakin 21st century for heavens sake! He grumbled mentally.
    The climb was laborous and long but he finally gasped his way towards his destination. The light overtop had never been lit for some reason so he coiled up into a tight ball and hid the prescious book between his stomach and legs. Heights was another item on his list of strengths. He had never been afraid of them so he gazed out of the glass window that wrapped around the circular room. A large but empty light dominated the rooms center. He watched as a ferris wheel turned idly and lights danced while people chattered excitedly. He would be down there right now if he didn't have a much more pressing matter at hand. He sighed and lowered his canine head onto his paws.

    It was horrifying, the Autumn Festival. People crowed wildly and laughed like idiots as they stumbled about with cotton candy and other unhealthy foods in their hands. She walked stiffly under the slim arch and was now officially a part of the festivities. Yippee.
    " Anna!" Called a familiar voice from a nearby snow-cone stall. Blake thrust the money impatiently into a surprised vendors hands before trotting briskly over, two snow-cones at hand. He handed her one and she gave it a quick look of disdain before taking a bite.
    " I didn't think you'd come! You never come!" He breathed, childish exuberance colouring his tone.
    Annabelle shrugged. "Yeah. Well, I was bored."
    His ecstatic exterior faltered slightly under her indifference, but he repaired it quickly.
    "Good thing, I guess. Wanna do something?" He grinned broadly. His hair had been cut since the last time she had seen him, his motley brown mat had been fortunately tamed by an odvious god and was now sticking up in small spikes on top of his head. His brown eyes danced in the constant clamor of the festival and lights left small dots and slashes in her vision.
    She couldn't think of a proper reply. "Sure."
    "Okay..." He pondered momentarily. "What about the ferris wheel?"
    "Is this a date?" She queried bluntly as soon as his suspicious speech brought the thought to mind.
    His eyebrows furrowed. "No. Why?"
    "Just wondering since you're being kinda clingy. Kinda like a boyfriend."
    "Oh." He blinked, look bewildered by Annabelles brusque change of personality.
    Annabelle shrugged. "Oh well, as long as it's all cleared up, we can continue."
    They did continue, tottering along with a somewhat awkward atmosphere at first. But the contagion of hype suddenly sparked their minds and they quickly joined the clot of people who were lining up for rides on the massive wheel.
    People jostled one another and couples chattered endlessly as they waited for their turn to go around.
    "So, how are things?" He questioned lightly.
    "Same as ever."
    "Ah." Silence.
    She scrambled to make up for their seperation. "What about you?"
    "Nothing much, just worried." He answered.
    "About what?" She pressed, nonplussed.
    "About why my best friend hasn't even spoken to me since we left school in June and is acting like an insane emo." He lifted his eyebrows, expecting an explanation.
    Annabelle fumbled with a reply and opened her mouth to speak when he suddenly took hold of her wrist and pulled back the coat to see the naked flesh.
    "What are you doing!" She demanded as she watched him inspect her arm.
    "Good." Blake sighed in relief. "No cuts."
    "That's rude." She grumbled angrily, yanking her arm away from her friend. People were now glancing at them worriedly, as if expecting her to leap at him like a wild beast. She shot them glares that made them recoil by withering back to their original chatter. Something brought her gaze to the lighthouse that sat like an ethereal phantasm in the distance.
    "You really like that light house, huh?" Mumbled Blake, almost apologetically.
    "Yeah." Annabelle confirmed, her voice distant. "There's just something about it..."
    "Then lets go up there." He ventured happily, she spun to look at him incredulously.
    "But isn't it supposed to be haunted?" She hissed softly.
    "So? Who cares, I'm not scared of ghosts."
    "But what if I am?"
    He shrugged nonchalantly. "Sucks to be you, I guess." He turned to look at the house with boyish excitement written all over his face. "We're going."
    "How about you go up, and tell me how it goes." She vouched shakily.
    "How about you go up, alone, and tell ME how it goes?" He grinned. "Or are you chicken?"
    She petrified him with a caustic scowl. "Wow. Not only are you an idiot, but you're also unoriginal to."
    "Ouch." Blake rolled his eyes.
    Talking to him had changed to when they were close in the spring, before her visions that become more acute. They got along naturally and were able to speak without any filtering of words. It was nice.
    "I'm not going up." She persisted stubbornly, reminding him shamelessly of her irrational fear of the dark.
    "Yes you are." He decided confidently.
    "No I'm not."
    "Yes, Anna, you are."
    He looked up at the massive wheel and pondered for a moment. "Because I said so."
    "And you prove my earlier point right, again." She snorted sarcastically.
    Abruptly, the ride operator ushered them into one of the instable seats that creaked in protest as they sat. Her long list of fears had called for her reaction as she began babbling out of sheer horror when the ride groaned into movement. Around they went slowly and each time she sighed with relief when they neared the gound, and each time she resumed her babbling as they rose higher. Blake didn't bother hiding his annoyance as he sighed impatiently whenever she began her nattering.
    "That." He began after they were finally released from hells carnival. "Was boring."
    "Agreed." She nodded.
    He looked at her incredulously. "It was boring because you wouldn't shut up and half the time I couldn't even understand what you were saying."
    She scowled angrily at him. "Your the one who made me go on it, idiot."
    "Oh, I'm the idiot?" He growled.
    "Yes." Trinity answered curtly.
    "How so?"
    "I already said, you made me go on it."
    "No I didn't."