Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Beyond the Looking Glass ❯ Chapter 2: The Feeding Place ( Chapter 9 )

Beyond the Looking Glass

 

Author's Notes: This chapter includes the following: cannibalism, death of small furry animals and children, gore, warped characters, and what will probably be a confusing ending to at least a few of you, which will be later explored in Chapter 3. Also, the name of this chapter is a shout out to my favorite line of all time, it's from IT by Stephen King: `Haunt, a feeding place for animals.' I thought that such a quote was quite perfect for this fic. I hate to say it, but a sequel for Beyond the Looking Glass is already going through my mind. Naturally, I can't speak of even the plot until this fic is finished since I don't believe in spoilers. Whether it will have to be housed in the original fiction section because I've killed off all the Gundam Wing characters will be seen at the end of this story. This chapter really got away from me, eh? Unlike The Road to Kindness, this is much harder to write, for some reason, but I still ended up writing more than I had intended. And now there's unrequited 6+5, how the hell did that happen?! *grumbles* Stupid brain.

 

Chapter 2: The Feeding Place

 

April 3, 1992

 

 

`Love really can conquer anything,' Chris thought to herself as she and her lover, no, scratch that, husband walked through the small village of Nasue. That word, `husband', made her feel giddy, lightheaded as though she was up someplace high. She had always been a dreamer, even after childhood had faded into the jaded years of high school. Unlike other children her age, Chris had never played with others. Her days had been spent on porches, simply staring out into the sky and imagining that she was somewhere else, some place fanciful. But, at the same time that she was a dreamer, she had also always been very pessimistic. She had always seen her dreams as just that, things that were beautiful and wonderful but would never happen, so she quickly gave up on ever achieving them, but that had ended when she had met Ralph.

Chris was what was popularly called an `army brat'. Her father was General Septum, a stern man that had only ever followed the rules and expected everyone else to do the same. She had lived in a strict household, constantly moving from country to country, never staying at one place for more than a few months, and when her mother had died of breast cancer, her father had gone from simply strict to overbearing and protective. No matter what she did, it was never good enough. She had dreamed of running away, but it was one of those things that she knew she would never do. She had made excuses for herself her entire life, that she had nowhere to go, that she wasn't strong enough, but it was simply because she didn't have the willpower. Then, when her father's job had moved them to Tokyo, she had met a man named Ralph Kurt. While her father was away at the base, which was more often than not, she would wander the city. She knew that it was stupid, an European girl like her walking around a crowded Japanese city where anything could happen to her and she would have no one to turn to, but the bright lights and exotic stores enticed her. One day, she had been out walking, like she always did, and had come across a small café. Ralph had been sitting at the outside tables, despite the fact that it was winter, bundled in a heavy coat, drinking a steaming cup of coffee. It was such an odd thing to do when there were warm tables inside that she had to stop and stare. He had smiled at her and told her what a `wonderful' day it was. She had laughed at the sight of his breath visible in the chilly air and had sat down with him. After that, every day she had joined him for a cup of coffee outside, even when it was raining, and they would talk about themselves. Ralph wasn't wealthy at all, he was simple painter trying to make it by in Japan. He loved to paint the mountains and scenic Shinto shrines of the country side that only Japan could provide. He was the sort of man that her father would hate, she had thought back then, free, without any boundaries or rules, only living hand to mouth. She wasn't quite sure if it was the feeling of freedom in disobeying her father or if it was Ralph's lifestyle that had appealed to her the most, but she had fallen hard for the man. A year had passed, the longest stretch of time Chris had ever stayed in one place and she was glad for it, and she and Ralph had continued to date, kissing and holding hands mostly since they both agreed that they didn't want to rush things and if they did have sex, it would be on their wedding night. Three weeks ago, her father had caught them on his way home, past that café and had realized what was going on between them. On the same night that her father had forbidden her to see Ralph ever again, her lover had proposed to her. So, three weeks later, they had eloped, running to the remote town of Nasue.

Never in Chris' life had she disobeyed her father and never had she thought that her dreams would be possible, yet both seemed so easy by her love's side. Her hand felt warm in his larger one as they walked. Last night they had spent the evening the hotel making love. Chris had been a virgin and unbelievably scared, but now she looked upon those moments fondly, glad that she had been able to give herself to the only man she had ever loved. The diamond ring, not expensive, but undeniably beautiful, seemed to burn on her finger, not so much as an accusation, rather like a reminder that she had finally escaped, that for the first time in her life, she had made a decision because she had wanted it, not someone else. They didn't have much money, but that would be ok. For once, she had hopes and dreams that she could actually see coming true and she wouldn't let something like money change that. However, money would help since they no longer had enough to get another hotel room. Ralph planned on spending what they had left to paint and sell in town so they needed to find free shelter. Something like that wasn't easy. People seemed to smile down at them for being young newlyweds, but as soon as they asked for a place to stay, those smiles would disappear. However, one little girl had told them that there was an old house up an old forest road at the edge town that had been abandoned for years, but that the door was said to never be locked.

Ralph's hand tightened on her own as they approached the long, winding path in the deep woods. The child's story seemed far fetched, but Chris also had no doubt that her father would be looking for them and with his connections, it would be easy for him to trail them. Going to a hotel was probably dangerous. She had no idea what her father would do if he ever caught up with them. He had been so furious when he had found out that she was dating without his say so, and to a painter of all things… Braving a long forest road and an old house seemed so little compared to dealing with his fury. After all of this time, she was still terrified of her father and she felt like that wasn't going to change. The path was more scenic than she had thought and she felt herself relax as they walked together, hand in hand. The pine trees that filled the area smelled wonderful and there were several flowers growing because of the warm, spring air. It was actually quite romantic, even as the sun was setting and she knew that soon they would submerged in darkness with only a battery-powered lantern to help them see.

“It's so beautiful,” she murmured. Ralph nodded in agreement, smiling at her. Her heart blossomed with love at the expression and she found that she had to kiss him. She didn't care what her father did to them, she would never be apart from Ralph, no matter what.

 

*****

 

Chris had traveled all over the world and her father was moderately wealthy, but she had never seen a home like she the one she was staring up at now. It was so huge and massive looking that she had a hard time believing that it was a house and not a hotel. The gate looked like it would take at least ten men to open, but fortunately, it was open just enough for people to go through one by one. The beauty of the forest path was nothing compared to the garden outside of the house, the cherry tree was in full bloom and the rock garden was lovely, though unkempt. Still, the house looked lonely with her knowing that there was no one to live in it. Ralph didn't let go of her hand as he tried the door and they both relaxed when it opened with only slight creak.

It was pitch black inside and Ralph quickly worked the crank on the lantern to light it up. Its light wasn't sufficient to see much, so the two of them stumbled up the steps into the main hallway and felt at the walls until they found an open door to a guest room. The faint light of the lantern bounced off the walls, making the long hallways and nooks and crannies hard to discern, but the lantern was helpful in the smaller guest room. Chris wondered if they would be able to see the house in the morning when the sun rose. She saw with some relief that there was a futon in the corner and, when Ralph opened the closet, there were some old, dusty, moth eaten sheets inside. The holes in the sheets were tiny, so they were still usable, but the part of her that was used to getting the best scoffed at them, but the logical part of her realized that this was the best they could get right now and old sheets were better than no sheets at all.

“We'll spend the night here,” Ralph told her as he helped her lay down on the old futon, “and go back to town in the morning.”

Chris nodded, snuggling against her husband. The house was old and there were sharp creaking noises going on upstairs that scared her. She was tired from running around all day and hungry, but Ralph's arms were strong around her and she focused on that. She just wished that she could stop the terrible, gnawing hunger and her irritation at Ralph for not being able to do better than old, musty house in the woods as though they were a couple of hermits. Ralph turned off the lantern and the room filled with oppressing darkness. There was a loud creak above their heads and Chris tensed, but her exhaustion allowed her to fall into a fitful sleep filled with terrible, anxious dreams.

 

*****

 

Chris woke only a few hours later to find that Ralph was no longer in bed with her. She panicked for a minute, after all, how would she survive on her own? But, she discovered that it was no longer pitch black, because Ralph had turned the lantern back on. She sat up quickly and saw him rooting around in their packs for something, muttering under his breath.

“Where is it?” he was saying in a tight, low voice. Chris' heart pounded as his brown eyes fell on her.

“Where is it?” he said louder.

“What?” she asked, confused.

“My wallet,” he said sharply, “I can't find it anywhere.”

Her heart beat increased even more. They needed that money to live and Ralph had lost it? Some deep part of her wanted to ask what had woken him up and why he had thought to look for his wallet.

“I don't know, when did you have it last?”

Ralph gave her an intense look.

“I had it when I went to bed and now it's gone,” he snapped. Chris narrowed her eyes at him.

“Are you suggesting that I took it? Why on Earth would I steal your wallet?”

“I don't know,” he growled and she could see the anxiety and tension in his eyes, “Maybe you'd thought that you'd use it to by yourself some goddamn coffee or a piece of cake! You never think ahead like I do! Fuck it, Chris, if I've told you once, I've told you a million times, we can't spend that money on food or we'll have no money afterwards. I don't have any rich daddies to pay the bill for me! When will you ever grow up?”

Chris stood up, her anger and irritation mounting.

“Fuck you, Ralph! If you had any intelligence in that brain of yours, we wouldn't be in this situation! You're married now, why don't you buckle down and get a real job!” she screeched. Ralph growled at her again and she froze. What were they doing? Why did she feel so… angry, so dark inside? It felt like the shadows around the room were choking them, hiding the feelings they had for each other and bringing out their irritation two fold. Ralph paused as well and he ran a shaky hand through his messy hair.

“I'm sorry,” he said in a small voice, “I didn't mean to snap like that, it's just that we do really need that money and I know I had it before I went to bed.”

“Maybe there's someone else in the house with us,” she offered, remember the creaking. She could tell by the incredulous look in his eye that he didn't believe that for a second, but he was too scared of yelling at her again. The two of them sat back down on the futon and he turned off the lantern.

“We just need some sleep, that's all. Everything will be fine in the morning,” Ralph said, but when Chris realized that he was talking to himself and not her, his words brought her no comfort.

 

*****

 

Chris' watch told her that it was nine in the morning when she woke up again, but there was no sun peaking through the window of the room. Sometime during the night, the moon had broken through the clouds and the room was illuminated with it, making the lantern unnecessary. She stared at her watch again. It had to be broken. There were more shadows now, lurching and terrible and they made her feel ill. This wasn't fair, she thought to herself, she should be in her warm bed with a full stomach, but because of her husband's foolishness, she would probably be hungry for the rest of her life. She didn't deserve this. She loved him, but she could easily admit that this was all his fault. He was supposed to take care of her!

Ralph was sleeping on his side next to her, his back to hers and he felt like a mile away as his arms were wrapped tightly around himself. Chris tried to figure out why it was still dark, why the moon was so bright if it was supposed to be morning. How long had they been in this house? Twelve hours? A day?

`We're trapped,' a voice told her, deep within her mind and she tried to block it out. That wasn't true, her watch was just broken, that was all. Sure, she had had it for ten years and it had never failed her, but things broke.

“We're trapped,” Ralph echoed her thoughts.

“What do you mean?” she asked, rolling over to look at his strong back, but he still wouldn't face her. Instead, he was looking at the window, at the moonlit sky.

“I went back to the front door while you were sleeping,” he said and she instantly felt betrayed. Why had he left her alone in this place? Was he trying to run away from her, from his responsibility? That seemed so like him, not wanting to brought down by a mere woman… She felt hate for him for the first time in their relationship. He had left her alone, in the dark, had taken the lamp, their only source of light, to leave.

“The door was locked,” Ralph said sharply, “we're stuck here unless someone finds us.”

Chris felt a giddy sort of pleasure knowing that his plan had been thwarted, but also a sharp sense of fear knowing that they were trapped in the house with no food or water.

“That's impossible,” she pointed out, “It wasn't locked when we came in.”

“God, don't you listen to anyone?!” he snapped, glaring at her, “the door is locked, end of story!”

Chris glared back at him. How long had he been awake, thinking about running away, she wondered? They lapsed into silence, staring off in opposite directions, without the will to talk to one another.

 

 

*****

 

How long had they been here? Chris' watch told her that it had been two days, but it felt longer. The sun didn't rise, the moon was constant, along with the shadows and the darkness. She felt so hollow, her lips dry and her stomach empty. She wanted something to fill her, anything at all… She realized that they should walk around the house, try to find another way out, but she found that she didn't care. This sort of terrible apathy had filled her and she could only care about her hunger. Ralph refused to speak to her and she didn't feel the urge to do so, either. She felt alone in the house, the two of them secretly hating each other, blaming each other, for what, she wasn't sure. It was Ralph's fault they were trapped. It was her fault for the missing money. It was his fault they had no food. It was her fault that they couldn't talk things out. They had stopped fighting a long time ago, simply staring at the walls of the room, at the lingering shadows and the moon that never left the sky. She was so tired… she just wanted this all to stop. There was some remaining spark inside of her of the love she felt for her husband, but the hunger was consuming her, little by little, like an endless thing. She would never get rid of it, she realized.

`You're going to die in this place,' that dark voice said, it's whispering never ceasing, just like her hunger. She dimly realized that the cruel voice and her hunger were the same. When had things gone so bad? When they had entered the house? When they had come to this town? When they had met at that café? She couldn't figure things out. Ralph watched her out of the corner of his eye, her rocking back and forth as she watched the moon. He stood, but she didn't seem to notice until he was in front of her and suddenly grabbing her thin, white neck.

“What… what are you doing?” she choked out, sharp fear, the first real emotion she had felt in days besides the hunger and anger, filled her and she thrashed.

“I know what you've been doing, he told me,” Ralph growled, a crazy look in his eye. She realized that that look had been in his eye since he had realized that the wallet was missing, “that boy, he told me what you've been doing behind my back, you little slut! This was all a joke to you, wasn't it?!”

“Ra… lph… why?” she managed to string the words together, but they were promptly cut off as her husband tightened his grip and her gasps contained no air. Her struggles slowed until she fell into permanent darkness. Neither she nor Ralph saw the small child in the blood stained kimono watching the murderous act with a blank expression on his face.

 

 

*****

 

April 7th, 1992

 

 

Septum looked up at the Matsuei Mansion with a dubious expression on his face. He had been looking for his runaway daughter and her bastard of a lover for almost a week now and it appeared that he was finally closing on their trail. He couldn't believe that Chris had done this to him. He had thought that she was a good girl, a little bit of an airhead, yes, but she was also, usually, obedient, just like how he had raised her. Things had been hard for him after the death of her mother, but he had persevered and he had thought that he had succeeded in raising a perfect daughter, but it looked like he had failed and if there was one thing he couldn't stand, it was failure. All he wanted was to bring his daughter back home with him and teach her some respect, he didn't care what happened with that lowlife she had claimed to fallen for. Still, though a child in the small town had told him a `pretty blonde girl with blue eyes with a scruffy looking man' had come up to this house, he didn't believe that his little girl, who had always feared the dark, would go into this place. But, the gate was open and when he tried the front door, it was unlocked, so he went inside.

 

*****

 

The second that Septum went inside of the house, he knew that something was wrong. Besides that, he wasn't looking forward to searching for his wayward child. The house was huge and there didn't seem to be any rhyme or reason to the hallways. He saw no indication that anyone had been there in the last two hundred years. Everything was covered with dust and the floorboards creaked under his weight. However, as he walked up the steps and started along the hallway, he heard whispering in one of the guest rooms. He couldn't make out what the person was saying, all he knew was that someone was here. He opened the door and went inside, but what he saw made him vomit onto the tatami. He hastily wiped his mouth, trying to compose himself, as he took in the scene. The sunlight streaming through the window didn't leave a single inch to the imagination, making bile churn in his stomach.

The ruffian and his daughter had been here, were still here, in fact. Ralph, that was what his name was, was sitting cross-legged on the floor. He looked horrible, his skin deathly pale, and thin, the bones of his arms jutting out against the skin. He looked like he would break in half with a single punch. There was a smear of brilliant red blood across his mouth that was so vivid against his snowy, bloodless skin that it made Septum want to throw up all over again. The man's eyes were hollow, but he was still alive. His large hands stroked at Chris' dismembered head, which he had cradled in his lap like a stuffed animal. Septum couldn't see her face, but he recognized her short blonde hair easily. Her body had been shoved in the corner, the wood floor and wall stained deeply with her blood. Her body was starting to decay, but it was badly mutilated with huge chunks of flesh ripped out, bite marks covering her once perfect skin as tendons and flesh lay on the floor like a rabid animal had tried to tear her apart. That smear of red on Ralph's mouth filled Septum with the most intense rage he had ever felt.

“Hello, Septum,” Ralph said in a flat voice, his fingers stroking Chris' shining blond hair, “Chris and I were just talking about you. She tells the best stories, but I'm sure that you already know that.”

The rage crested, making Septum's vision waver into a bright, horrible red. This… thing… had killed his daughter… had eaten her… how long had his daughter's body been in this house, feeding this person that she had once loved?

“You… monster!” Septum bellowed and flew at the other men, his fists raining down on him. Each crack and wet sound of his fists on Ralph's fragile body made him feel so good… he couldn't stop. The anger started to ebb away as he broke bones and flesh and brain matter flew onto the ground, the man's body lying limp. When the anger was all gone, he looked at what he had done. Ralph was very much dead, having no strength left to defend himself, his rip cage and arms broken, his head caved in by the force of Septum's blows. He felt no sorrow for what he had done. With a heavy, sickened heart, he approached the corpse of his daughter. He grimaced as he reached down and unlatched the delicate golden chain around her neck. Her mother had given her the necklace before she had died and he had no intention of leaving it in this place. He would go back into town, he decided. He would tell the truth with only a few white lies. This bastard had murdered and eaten his daughter and he, himself, had gone temporarily insane with grief. The boy was half dead anyway, he probably wouldn't have lived for long. He had killed him out of mercy….

His body shaking, Septum left the grisly scene in the guest room and went back to the front door, but when he tried to open it, it held fast.

“What the hell?” he muttered and slammed at the door, trying to wedge it open, but it was locked fast.

“That's impossible!” he yelled and rammed into the door with his body, but the ancient wood, somehow, was stronger than he was. He was trapped. He screamed in an intense fury, falling onto his knees. He shook his head. He felt like he was going insane. There had to be another way out. A huge, old house like this… there had to be a garden, a courtyard, atrium… something leading outside! He stumbled back to his feet and started to run as fast as he could, as though he thought that by doing so, he could elude his own terrible thoughts and deeds. He found himself, somehow, in a long hallway filled with ropes that never seemed to end. He didn't stop, though he was starting to feel out of breath. Would this house never end? He ran through hallway after hallway until he found himself on a porch leading outside into a huge courtyard. He stopped as he looked up at the sky, the wide open sky and saw the moon. He didn't think about how he couldn't have been running long enough for day to turn into night or how the moon couldn't possibly be full when there had been a half moon out last night, he only laughed, almost insanely, as he saw that he was outside. Now, he just needed to get back into town.

It was hard moving through the yard. The porch and most of the ground was covered in twisting, gnarled green vines that had tiny red flowers sprouting out of them. They were thin, but strong and he almost tripped several times. The courtyard was huge and beautiful, even the ancient stone well, but he had never cared much for beauty and simply tried to look for a way out of this horrible place. As he stumbled towards the well, he cried out when he felt something sharp graze the top of his head. He looked up and saw a large crow flying over head. It swooped low again and he ducked, his eyes following it as it flew over to a figure that was standing by the well, a figure that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. The person was dressed all in white, the space behind it seeming distorted, but Septum wrote it off as an illusion. He saw the person's long brown hair and assumed it was a woman at first, but as he took a few steps forward, he realized that it was a boy. The crow landed softly on the boy's shoulder and the apparition stroked its head fondly. He was beautiful, Septum realized, his skin pale and his oddly colored eyes piercing, but when he got closer, he saw the horrible wounds on its body and any cries for help were caught in his throat as he realized that no person could just be standing there with such wounds so nonchalantly, but his eyes still refused to believe what they were seeing as clear as day. Septum saw that the boy didn't have just one crow, but dozens, surrounding him like loyal dogs around their master. His other hand had something clenched in it, probably food, as his other petted the bird on his shoulder.

“P-please, help me,” Septum heard himself ask, even though he had no desire for the ghost's assistance. A ghost… that was what this thing was, he was sure, even though a stubborn part of himself refused to believe it. The boy finally seemed to notice him, his strange eyes staring at him, and he smiled, but the expression only sent a violent tremor down Septum's spine.

“Hunger is such a terrible thing,” the ghost said, his voice echoing and distorted like through a radio and Septum realized, in fear, that it was partially due to the strangulation mark on his throat. His voice was so beautiful, but it was horrible, too.

“Loneliness is the worst sort of hunger,” the boy continued, his voice turning sad and Septum could indeed hear the loneliness in it. He was not an affectionate person, but the tone of his voice tore through the older man and he wanted to help him somehow.

“They're starving, you know, my crows,” he stroked the bird's ebony feathers and the other birds started to screech, as though in agreement.

“They've been surviving off of the mere scraps I give them, but it's not enough.”

Septum took a terrified step back as the distortion behind the boy cleared into something that his eyes just couldn't understand. Protruding from the boy's back, like hundreds of hungry parasites, were ghosts, mutated, silently screaming, some laughing hysterically, some clearly not human. The only word that came to his mind at that moment was `evil.'

The boy's slender, pale hand unfurled and he saw what he was holding. It was his daughter's finger. He didn't know how he knew that, but the nail was well manicured and a beautiful diamond ring was on it, the bone jutting out of the mangled flesh.

“No…” Septum cried, tears tracking down his cheeks, as the boy fed the crow on his shoulder the finger and the black bird grasped it in its sharp beak then swallowed it, ring and all, in one gulp. He whirled and started to run, but one of the vines tripped him and he fell to the ground, the vine twisting around his ankle like a live creature, and he couldn't wrestle his foot free. He heard the rustle of fabric by his ear and saw white cloth out of the corner of his eye as the ghost was suddenly right next to him, kneeling by his side.

“But the dead are the hungriest of all,” he heard a whisper and saw two pairs of feet directly in front of him. He looked up sharply and saw Ralph and Chris standing there, her head somehow reattached, their bodies mangled and limbs dangling like broken marionettes. Their jaws were gaping wide and he could see their teeth and the hunger in their skinny, emaciated bodies. As hundreds of crows descended onto the terrified man, the once silent air of the courtyard was filled with Septum's screams.

 

 

*****

 

 

 

June 8th, 2066

 

Relena, Zechs, Wufei, Trowa, Quatre, and Heero all covered their ears as the laughter pieced through their minds in mad harmony, but through the laughter, they all heard, and felt, the suddenly loud crashing noise that shook the floor under the feet.

“What was that?” Relena asked, her eyes wide with fear, not wanting to know the answer to that question at all. This wasn't real… it was just an old house and she was just dreaming, that was it… Zechs' own eyes widened in realization of what was happening.

“Downstairs, now!” he barked as he ran out of the room, the teenagers following him downstairs, through the long winding hallways. It seemed to take forever to get to the front door and Relena felt like screaming again when Zechs tried to open it, only to find it locked fast.

“No!” she cried, but saw that it was useless when her brother slammed his body against the old door, only to have it not budge an inch, as though it were made of metal instead of ancient wood.

“That's impossible… there has to be a way out!” she shoved against the door, which she imagined was laughing at their pathetic attempts. Quatre walked shakily over to the window. Of course it was impossible, but he wasn't surprised. What was he doing here? He could feel the shadows closing around them and knew that it had nothing to do with his sixth sense. Somehow, he knew what he would find when he looked out the window and that they were trapped, but the sight still terrified him.

“We can never leave,” he murmured.

“What is it?” Trowa asked as he stood by his lover's side. He paled when he saw what Quatre was seeing.

“No…” he whispered.

“It doesn't matter if we find a way out of this house,” Quatre told Relena who was looking progressively more and more shaky and out of control, “the gate is locked.”

“That's impossible!” she cried out in dismay again, pushing Quatre to the side so she could look out the small window. Her heart raced and clenched as she saw that the huge front gate was firmly closed.

“Even if we get outside, it would take twice as many people just to wedge it open again,” Trowa pointed out, his voice oddly calm given the situation.

“But it's impossible!” Relena protested stubbornly as though she thought that her logic would open the gate again, “a simple gust of wind couldn't have pushed it closed!”

“It's also impossible for an unlocked door to close and lock itself,” Zechs said in a low voice, looking at the door with an expression of betrayal.

“You still don't get it, do you?” Quatre said coldly to Relena, “The possible, the impossible, time, even life and death, none of those things mean anything in this place. You saw that ghost, just like the rest of us, you know this house's history. Do you honestly think it was the wind that trapped us here?”

“It doesn't matter,” Zechs tried to stay positive, “Ghosts or no ghosts, we will get out of here, we just need to keep our heads on straight. Our parents know where we are, they'll come looking for us by tonight, tomorrow morning at the very latest. We just need to stay alive until then.”

“Why can't we just burn the damn place down?” Relena asked, “We have candles and lighters, let's just burn this fucking place to the ground!”

Her friends stared at her, having never heard her swear before.

“Forget it,” Wufei snorted, “What are you going to do if this works? Say by burning the house down, we get out, with is just as stupid as us trying to open that gate on our own, what are you going to tell the cops? The ghosts made you do it? Arson's a crime, Relena.”

“We're not setting the house on fire!” Heero snarled, the thought of them destroying the house filled him with sickness and dull rage.

“Heero, we're a bit more concerned with staying alive than the beauty of this house! I'll admit, I was skeptical about this place, but seeing is believing and I don't think that we were all imagining what just happened. If we don't get out of here, that… thing will never leave us alone!”

“Burning the house down will probably never work anyway. We're trapped and if we set this place on fire, we still won't be able to get out and we'll end up burning to death!” Zechs pointed out, amazed at his own sister's stupidity.

“But what if it's like in horror movies? People burn down the haunted house, the ghosts go away, and all of the doors open!”

“We'll burn faster than the ghosts,” Trowa grumbled.

“This isn't the movies, Relena,” Zechs scolded, “What will you do if the doors don't open once we start the fire? We'll all be trapped in here and burn to death.”

Relena bit her lip, realizing just how dangerous such a plan would be.

“Why don't we break the window?” she pointed the window they had been looking out of. It was just big enough and level enough for one of them to slip through and the only thing blocking their way were cross shaped, thin pieces of wood.

“Stand back,” Trowa ordered as he grabbed onto the slender-looking wood and started to shake the bars violently. To their shock and dismay, it was the same as with the door, the wood looked old and feeble, but it didn't move an inch. Quatre seemed to be the only one not surprised by this.

“I told you,” he murmured, “it's not going to let us go, especially not through something so obvious. This thing is more powerful than nature itself. It's evil.”

Trowa and Heero looked at Quatre in worry, but the others ignored him, not wanting to believe what he was saying.

“It's like that movie, Rose Red,” Relena said. They stared at her in confusion and she sighed.

“Doesn't anyone watch old movies anymore? This people are trapped in a haunted house and try to get out by breaking a glass window, but no matter what they throw at it, the glass won't break,” she gave a seething look at Quatre, “They discover that the house is channeling a psychic girl's powers and the only way to get out is to knock her out and run while she's unconscious. Maybe that's why this ghost is after us! It's because of Quatre! I mean, he's the one who was seeing things before the rest of us! All we have to do is knock him out and we can go home!” she reasoned excitedly. Trowa stood in front of his lover.

“You're not doing a fucking thing to him! If you want to knock him out and leave him alone here, that's murder and you'll have to knock me out, too!” Trowa growled at her.

“We're not knocking anyone out!” Zechs snapped, glaring at his sister. He knew that she was afraid and she reacted badly to fear, but he still couldn't believe how selfish she was being.

“I was seeing things at the same time as Quatre,” Heero pointed out, “If you really think that our visions are causing this ghost's hostility, you'll have to leave me here, too.”

Relena instantly deflated. She decided that she could live without Quatre or Trowa, but there was no way she was going to leave Heero in this place.

“Ok, so, we can't go out through the windows or the front door, but what about the Courtyard? Maybe there's a way out through there or maybe the ghosts are only in the house? Maybe once we get outside, they won't bother us,” Zechs moved along, not wanting his sister's friends to turn on her. Wufei shrugged at this suggestion. He didn't relish in the idea of running around anymore as his leg was beginning to throb, but he had the sudden urge to see the sky, even if it was too dark out. Trowa put an arm around Quatre's shoulders and urged him forward.

“It sounds better than staying here.”

Quatre nodded, but still seemed unsure.

 

*****

 

Relena scratched at the gash on her arm as they walked deeper into the mansion. It had started to bleed a few minutes ago and refused to stop, but the amount of blood was small for a wound so big, like that of a paper cut. Still, it was starting to hurt and she somehow knew that all of her friends were going through the same thing. She had never been in a survival situation before. She had watched horror movies before and had always assumed that in this situation, she would be the `tough girl', the one that the hero fell in love with because she always kept her head and knew just what to do when the monster came, but right now, she just felt scared and tired and she wanted very much to go home. She couldn't understand how her brother kept his optimism and logic and how Heero and Wufei stayed so calm. She felt like she was going mad with each step as they walked deeper and deeper. She thought that the huge place would never stop and that they had been walking for hours when they finally got to the huge, sliding door leading outside to the courtyard. As Heero opened the door, which moved smoothly, Relena was momentarily breathless at the sight of the area. Past the oaks and cherry trees, she could see the dark outline of the mountains in the distance, even though it was night. The huge, fat moon in the sky made their flashlights unnecessary, so they all switched them off. The cherry trees were in full bloom and piles of pink petals lay under them. The well in the middle of the courtyard was large and made of old stone, but strong and intact. There was a solid fence running around the huge courtyard and an old wooden door that, Relena was giddy to think of, probably led outside. The most startling thing, however, were the huge, massive tangles of deep green vines that covered the ground and climbed up ever structure that they could find, with the exception of the well. They looked like snakes, like they could come alive at any moment and, in the dark, their tiny red flowers looked like drops of blood. Wufei wanted to bend down and pluck one of the flowers. He had always loved flowers, though he had been made fun of by his cousins for it and he couldn't remember having ever seen flowers like these anywhere else, even in books, but they gave the impression of something that was too beautiful, something poisonous, and he didn't dare touch them. They moved very slowly and very carefully through the mess of vines, careful not to trip on any of them. The last thing they needed was for someone to get a concussion. Heero lagged behind them, enthralled by the flowers. He wasn't as logical as Wufei was and he bent down to touch one of the petals. They were soft against skin. He stood up and realized, in a panic, that he could no longer see his friends. He blinked in the bright light of the sun. What had just happened? The sun was high in the sky and when he looked around, things were… different.

There weren't as many vines now, and the old well didn't look quite so old. Some of the cherry trees were smaller, others weren't there at all.

“Mariemeia, don't run far!” a deep voice rang in his ear from behind him and he whirled, a vine tangling around his foot, making him fall on his butt. He looked up onto the face of a very tall man with light brown hair, blue eyes, and European features. He sputtered, trying to find words, trying to figure out what was going on, when the man walked right by him like he didn't see him.

`That's because he can't see me,' Heero realized in shock. `I'm not really in this place… no, more like I'm not really in this time,' Heero thought. A vision… it had to be, just like the ones that Quatre had. Maybe they were right, Trowa and Quatre, maybe almost dying had done something to him, had left a permanent mark on him and now, he was able to see this… whatever this was. But, how was he supposed to get out of it? Would he be stuck in this time, in this vision, forever? He tried to remember everything that Quatre had told him about his psychic visions, but nothing came to him. He watched as the man ran after a small, red headed girl with bright blue eyes that was running towards the well, a tall, beautiful German woman with long brown hair and soft brown eyes walking swiftly behind him. Their names came to him instantly, Treize, Mariemeia, and Une. He didn't know how he knew that, but he did. Was this the ghost's work? If it was… what did he want him to see? Une picked up her three year old daughter and looked back at her husband.

“Do you really think it is a good idea to move into this house?” she asked. Heero dimly realized that what he was looking at had happened sometime in either the late 1800s or early 1900s, based on their clothing.

“What's the matter?” Treize asked, “This is the perfect place for my studies. It's quiet, with lot's of room for Marie to play. Look at these flowers, I've never seen anything like them, aren't they beautiful?” he said excitedly. Heero snorted. The man reminded him of Wufei, only less composed, but so enthralled by flowers. He couldn't blame him, though, they were very beautiful, even if by touching one of them, he had ended up in this place…

“But that's the problem!” Une pointed out, “There's so much room. I know you didn't have to pay a cent to be here, but what if one of us gets lost?”

“That won't happen,” Treize assured her, “I have a map and we won't be using most of the house, anyway. I wasn't getting anything done in orchards and greenhouses, you know that. How can I call myself a botanist if I don't get out in the field?” he kissed her cheek, “Tell you what, if I'm recognized for my work, I'll name these flowers after you.”

Une rolled her eyes at him.

“Honey, do me a favor and don't go giving my name to weeds.”

“These aren't weeds!” Treize said, laughing as Mariemeia made a face at him.

“Can Tilly play out here, too?” the child asked, prepared to pout if her father refused. He smiled.

“Sure thing, little one, your kitty can play out in the yard, just make sure she doesn't get out of the yard, ok?”

Marie nodded eagerly. Treize kneeled down among the vines, running his fingers over them. A breeze filtered through the cherry trees and it almost appeared as though the vines were shuddering at his touch.

“They're so beautiful,” he murmured, “just lovely.”

Heero followed his gaze to the bright red flowers and blinked, his eyes watering, as he saw something underneath his vision, superimposed, like double exposure. He closed his eyes, trying to clear them, only to find that by doing so, he could see it in his entirety. A gasp escaped him as he saw the ghost, no, Duo. He was standing in what looked like a huge a cave. All along the ground were those vines again, but they didn't have any flowers, they were bare, each and every one that Heero saw. There was someone standing behind Duo, but he couldn't see him, he reasoned that was because the vision was what Duo remembered, or what he wanted him to see and if Duo didn't see the person, then he couldn't, either. Cuts started to appear on his arms, huge, gaping wounds and Duo screamed, making Heero flinch.

“No!” he cried. His heart was pounding out of control and every muscle in his body tightened. He couldn't breathe, but he still found himself running towards the ghost as he crumpled to the ground, his blood splattering onto the vines, creating bright red spots on the deep green vegetation. He realized that if he would squint, the vines would like they had bright red flowers…

“Please don't kill me!” Duo screamed in Heero's head, his voice somehow not in the air, but inside of himself. Heero hastily opened his eyes and found himself back in the courtyard, but several days had passed in the vision. Treize was sitting on the steps leading into the courtyard, a journal balanced on his knee as he watered the vines in front of him. He wrote in the journal as he watched the vines soak up the water like sponges. His blue eyes were bright with energy, but Heero read it as fanaticism. Suddenly, his finger caught on the edge of the paper and he cut himself.

“Shit!” the man swore as several droplets of blood fell on the vines. Then, the vines moved. At first Heero thought he was just seeing things and he was sure that Treize had felt the same way, all those years ago, but the vines actually coiled around where the blood had fallen, like sea gulls around trash, as though begging for more, and the blood disappeared. A high pitched sound filled the air, like small children trying to mimic the sound of laughter that didn't know how. Treize stood and took a step away from the plants.

“What on earth?” he murmured. He turned and grabbed a drumstick of chicken that Une had given him for lunch and tossed it into the air. Lightning fast, like a rattlesnake striking at its prey, a vine caught the meat and brought it deep into the mass of vines at Treize's feet. Heero winced as he heard the sounds of sucking, that odd, high-pitched chirping and giggling, and the hideous crunching of bone. Then there was nothing, the drumstick was simply gone.

“Shit…” Heero whispered, “They're alive. Everything in this house… it's all alive…”

Treize could no longer contain his excitement at his discovery, flesh eating vines, and he ran inside. When he came back, Heero realized, disturbed, that it was actually several weeks later. There were more and more vines growing around the courtyard and they seemed more vibrant and alive than they did in Heero's time.

`That's because they feed on blood,' Heero thought in disgust, `and they haven't had any good food in awhile.'

He watched as Treize walked out in the yard with a small calico cat in his arms.

“There's no need to be afraid, Tilly,” Treize said in a soothing voice to the mewing feline. Heero's eyes widened as he watched Treize let go of the cat and she fell into the mess of vines. They swarmed her as she hissed and screeched at them, twining around her svelte body and tightening, her violent noises swiftly silenced as one vine wrapped around her neck and twisted it until it snapped. The other vines soon joined in, covering the cat, eating it, their flowers looking quite beautiful in the day light.

“Did you like that?” Treize cooed to the plants and was rewarded with chirping laughter. Heero watched as time passed again, but he couldn't tell how long, he just knew that it had come and gone. Treize disappeared from his sight and Heero became terrified when, for several seconds, he was alone in the courtyard, alone with the plants. But, he always came out. Heero watched in horror as, day after day, Treize would come out into the yard with an animal to feed his beloved plants, a crow, a rabbit, dogs, and cats… When they fed, he would sit on the steps and scribble frantically in his journal and when they were done, they would whisper.

`Kill them,' the plants chirped in a high pitched frenzy, sounding like a child as they cackled and giggled with glee, `we're so hungry. Kill them…'

Heero covered his ears and shut his eyes tightly, but the dark, the blindness, terrified him and he opened them again. Talking, eating plants… he wasn't surprised that by the next time Treize made an appearance, he and his wife looked haggard and worn thin, but what he wasn't expecting was the man coming through the door with his little girl in his arms, the both of them covered in blood. Heero felt bile rise in his throat at the sight of the girl's slit throat. Une was at Treize's heels, looking much like a corpse, tugging at her husband's arm.

“You bastard! What are you doing?! Give her back to me!” she screeched insanely. Treize appeared nonchalant about the dead child in his arms or his screaming wife.

“It has to be done, Une. They need to be fed. How can I continue my research if they starve?” he asked calmly, dropping the corpse into the twining ball of vines. The vines slithered and cried eagerly as the warm flesh fell into their mists.

“No, you murderer!” the longhaired woman screeched and ran after her daughter into the huge tangles of vegetation. Heero tried to look away from the inevitable, but he couldn't. It was too late as the vines swarmed the woman and her dead child, wrapping around their legs and pulling them to the ground like wild dogs with dead deer, wrapping around them over and over, tearing their flesh off the bones and the meat disappearing underneath them somehow, until there was nothing left to tear and Heero and Treize watched as the vines seemed to dissolve anything that was left until there was absolutely nothing. Treize's face looked completely hollow as he watched, dark circles under his eyes.

`This is what this place does to people,' Heero realized, `it drives them mad. It's going to do the same to us.'

“It's not enough, is it? You need more, don't you?” Treize murmured, taking a large butcher knife out of his jacket, and he stabbed himself in the abdomen with it, ripping through himself. Heero squeezed his eyes shut, unable to take anymore, and he heard the sound of hot entrails falling to the ground, followed by the screaming laughter of the plants as they ate.

 

*****

 

Heero's eyes shot open and he almost screamed in relief as he saw his friends, still not even at the well, as they walked. He jumped out of the tangle of vines, feeling the overwhelming urge to throw up. He clutched at his stomach. No more… he wanted out of here… but… Duo… what had happened in that other vision? The silence of the night and the darkness was unbearable after what he had `seen' and he ran to catch up with his friends and slowed to a halt in front of a mirror standing a few feet from the well. He shook his head, wanting to close his eyes as he saw the… thing… the thing that looked like Duo, but wasn't Duo, not the cute boy that had reached for him inside the mirror, the horrible thing that had locked them in, the one with the demons rooted to his back. No one else seemed to notice him as the specter simply stood there on the other side of the mirror and watched them. Empty violet eyes met his and he froze. That stare… he hated it so much, it made him feel like he was going insane, like he should rip out his veins to make everything stop.

“Why?” he whispered, “Just stop this!” he begged. The ghost grinned as though it had a terribly funny joke to tell.

“All his fault,” it said in a distorted, twisted voice, “all Duo's fault. He should have died… but he didn't want to sooo badly,” the thing in the mirror jeered, on the verge of cruel laughter. Heero felt an intense rage fill him.

“Shut the fuck up!” he snapped. The others looked back at him and Relena screamed when she saw what was in the mirror.

“No one wants to die, why should he have been any different!” Heero yelled. This was so stupid, a small voice told him, he was arguing with a ghost. The thing just continued to smirk.

“He should have died long, long before… but that stupid father of his… so lenient, so sentimental…” the ghost giggled, the sound filling all of them with fear, “He should have killed him when he was supposed to…”

Heero's anger surged and he picked up a rock. With a below of rage and threw it at the mirror but, to his dismay, it only bounced off of its surface. However, the ghost instantly disappeared, leaving Heero panting and glaring at his own image.

“What was that?” Relena asked in a shaky voice.

“Nothing,” Heero snapped, walking past her, “Let's just find a way out of here.”

Zechs nodded at him and they headed towards the door at the other end of the courtyard. Wufei took a deep breath as Heero reached for the handle, a voice inside of his head jeering that if the front door was closed, this one was going to be locked, too. There was a collective gasp from all of them as the door opened with a loud creak, followed by Relena dissolving into tears when they saw what lay beyond the courtyard door.

 

*****

 

Quatre didn't feel surprised about anything anymore. He felt like he already knew everything that was going to happen before it happened. He had known that the window wouldn't break and he had known that they were trapped for good. It was hard to be optimistic when you knew that you were doomed. They had been doomed the second they had stepped through the gate last morning. He had checked his watch. If it wasn't broken, then they had already spent a day here and it was now noon the next day, but it was dark and the moon was shining down on them. If he thought about that for long, he would go insane, just like if he thought about the ghosts in the mirrors. So, when he had gotten the distinct feeling that opening the door at the end of the courtyard would be pointless, he wasn't exactly panicked about it. He hated himself for it, but it felt like a large part of himself had already given up. The other part of him kept looking over at Trowa and he felt a strong sense of fear and love for him. He wanted to get out of here before this place did what it did best; destroy them all.

Relena felt like sobbing when they opened the door and found, not woods, but a long stretch of swamp. There were a few trees here and there, but it was mostly water. She watched in anxiety as her brother picked up a stick and dipped it into the water, only to lose the whole thing.

“There's no way we're getting through this,” Zechs said, “it's too deep, too long, and too cold to swim in.”

“What should we do, then?” Wufei asked, trying to keep his voice calm even though he could feel the panic starting to build. This had been too good to be true, he had known that, but he had still enjoyed that little bit of hope when the door had been unlocked. Zechs trudged back to the well and the others followed, wanting to hear what the older boy thought. They all sat at the edge of the well carefully, not wanting to fall in, except for Heero who steered clear of it. Zechs turned to Quatre.

“Can I see your dad's cell phone?” he asked. Quatre nodded and handed the satellite phone to the longhaired man. That sense of knowing came over him and he knew that the phone was useless, but he still let hope squirm through the apathy that was eating at his emotions.

“Shit,” Zechs swore, “there's no service.”

“How is that possible?” Relena whispered, feeling tears forming in her eyes, “It's a satellite phone, there has to be service.”

Zechs seemed to ignore her, handing the useless device back to Quatre.

“Well, we have a gate that is too heavy to close, closing on itself, a door that locking itself, windows made of unbreakable wood, a door that leads to a deep swamp, and now we have a phone that is supposed to always have service fail us. I think its pretty obvious that something, or someone, wants us to stay,” Wufei said bitterly, “so I ask again, what now?”

Zechs ran a hand through his bangs, wanting to comfort the Chinese boy but not knowing how. Relena curled her fingers around the edge of the well and paused at small grooves that she felt there. She looked down at her hand and saw long scratches going down into the well on the stone surface. She shuddered as she looked down into the darkness. It felt like looking into an abyss, like looking down into hell.

“We're going to wait here for our parents,” Zechs decided, “We can go to bed and in the morning, we'll explore some more. I know nobody wants to do that, but it's important to keep busy.”

No one had anything to say or contest about that, so they followed the older boy back into the house and to their `bedroom.'

 

*****

 

Despite the gnawing exhaustion that was eating away at them at that point from the confusion of time and fear and adrenaline, none of them could sleep. The knowledge that it was still not `night', according to his watch, Quatre couldn't let himself doze off. The roof above their heads creaked like someone was walking above them, which was impossible. Relena had started to doze off when the sound of a door opening had made her wide awake again. Sometimes in the few hours when they were all lying down, they would hear people whispering through the walls and the crazy laughter of a small child. It was impossible to sleep with such maddening noises. Quatre snuggled against Trowa's chest and Relena curled up into a miserable ball in the corner of the room. She made a small choking noise when she caught the sight of the mutilated boy in the mirror.

“Ignore it,” Zechs told her, looking at the wall, his arms wrapped around his knees, “just ignore it.” His voice was tired and resigned, but Relena found that it was difficult to pull her eyes away from the ghost, like watching a car wreck. There was a strong pull, like an inaudible voice screaming at her to look into those flat, terrible violet eyes. How could she possibly sleep with that… thing watching her? She forced herself to look away, but shuddered feeling those eyes burning into her very soul. She looked over at her brother and felt an intense sense of worry for him, at the weary look in his eyes. What if their parents didn't come for them? She hated that thought, but she had to think it. It was ludicrous, of course, their parents were probably already wondering why one of them hadn't called and they would be here in the morning. But… what if morning never came for them? What if they were doomed to live in this night forever? But, that was impossible… right?

All of them jumped as a door upstairs slammed shut. In Trowa's strong arms, Quatre's eyes had finally started to feel heavy and he had been half asleep, but the shocking noise jolted him out of it and he felt wide awake again, his heart pounding. Duo's image was gone from the mirror, but he could still feel him, watching all of them. His skin itched to leave the horrible place, knowing how wrong and unnatural it was. He felt trapped, like a rabbit in a snare, just waiting for the hunter to come along and slit his throat.

“We should leave this room,” Wufei suddenly said shakily.

“It doesn't matter,” Quatre murmured, Trowa's comforting hand squeezing his shoulder, “he's just going to follow us no matter where we go,” he pointed out, “This isn't like running away from a serial killer. He's a ghost, he's in the wood of this place, no matter where we go, he'll be there, if he wants to be.”

Zechs suddenly got to his feet.

“He can follow us all he wants, but if I'm not going to sleep, then I'm going outside,” he said gruffly.

“Zechs, don't!” Wufei begged, standing to stop him, but paused at the blue eyed man's intense look.

“I need to see the sky,” Zechs murmured.

 

*****

 

The moon was still fat in the black sky when they traced their steps back to the courtyard.

`There isn't much of a sky to see,' Relena thought bitterly. Heero's eyes were plastered to the mirror as the walked past it, sure that he would see Duo or some other specter in the flat glass, but there was nothing there this time. As they stepped near the well, Relena gasped, feeling something ripping open her shoulder. Her mind supplied that it was just another trick, but she paused to push her shirt away from her shoulder and fear made her stomach quiver. The deep slash over her shoulder was no trick or illusion, nor was the blood that was sluggishly leaking out of it, trailing down her arm.

“No,” she whispered in shock. Her first impulse was to scratch at it as it started to ache and itch, but the blood scared her enough to ignore the impulse. When she looked at the others, they were all wearing various degrees of discomfort and Trowa's shirt had a spot of blood on his stomach that was slowly growing, spreading like disease. Was that what this was? Some sort of horrible disease? Would the cuts just keep spreading and spreading until they bled to death? Relena watched in horror as a cut suddenly appeared over Quatre's cheek. It was like watching an invisible knife scrape over his skin, not deep enough to kill, but enough to send a stream of blood down his face.

Trowa saw the blood and panicked, ripping off a piece of his shirt to soak it up. Quatre smiled at him in reassurance, pressing the cloth to his cut. Heero seemed to be the only one not in pain, truthfully, he was terrified. All of his friends were suffering, but he didn't feel any cuts. The only one he had was the one on his hand from touching the mirror, but unlike the others' wounds, his was healing rather well. It didn't make sense. Why wasn't he being cut as well and why were the cuts there to begin with? Relena noticed Heero's strange look, but the question in her mind was so vague, just starting to form, that she couldn't quite find the words to ask it. She flinched as something brushed against her leg, but when she looked down, she only saw the vines on the ground and shrugged it off as her own imagination.

Zechs ignored the urge to scratch at the newly formed cut on the back of his neck and trudged forward to the well. Even out here, he felt claustrophobic, as though he had never left the house. At first, he had thought that Quatre was simply panicking with all those terrible things he had said, but he knew it was the truth. They were never going to get out of the house. He knew physical things like how much pressure wood could withstand before it snapped, but things like ghosts and barriers that couldn't be broken, no matter the force, he just didn't understand. How could you escape a place that had no laws? He felt no safer outside, looking at the impossible, never ending moon, than he had been inside, listening to the sounds and seeing Duo everywhere. He knew that they wouldn't be safe until they left the mansion entirely.

Relena walked past her brother, who was just staring up at the moon as though he was in shock. She sat on the edge of the well, trying to use the feel of the cold stone under his hands to curb her own shaking, and the sudden intense need to just scream. She had never liked closed spaces, even as a kid, and even though the house was huge, it was worse than being locked in a closet.

“We should have something to eat,” Trowa suggested, “we're all tired, but we need to keep our energy up more than anything.”

Wufei nodded in agreement and handed out the sandwiches, pastrami and cheese this time. He realized that he had no idea how long they had been trapped here for. Such a thought was strange to him and sounded stupid, even in his own head. The moon was still out, so it was still only night, but it seemed much longer to him. Still, the sandwiches were still good, so it couldn't have been too long. But… that was silly, wasn't it? If it had been longer than a night, their parents would have come for them already.

As Relena chewed on her sandwich, her eyes glanced over to the mouth of the well and the dark abyss that seemed to go on and on. She flinched as she felt another brush against her leg, but, predictably, there were only the vines. However, as she kept her gaze locked on the green vegetation, she could have sworn she saw it move. She looked back into the tunnel-like well and a severe chill almost overwhelmed her. It was like looking into the very heart of Hell.

Jump! A high pitched voice that didn't actually sound like a voice, screeched through her mind, followed by what sounded like children laughing. She squeezed her eyes shut. She was going mad… Her crystal blue eyes shot open again as one of the vines wrapped around her foot.

Relena's loud scream made everyone jump, even Wufei, who glared at her as she jumped to her feet, dropping her sandwich, and tore the vine off of her.

“What is wrong with you?” he demanded, annoyed that she had scared him. They had enough to be frightened about without her freaking out at every little shadow.

“The vines, they're alive!” she screamed. Wufei gave Zechs a worried look, which the silver haired man returned. The two of them had been waiting for one of their small group to snap and it seemed somehow fitting that it would be Relena. However, Heero only looked at her as though he had been expecting it, not that she was crazy.

“That's the stupid thing I've ever heard!” Wufei snapped, “The vines are not alive, are you even listening to yourself?!”

“Shut up, Wufei!” Heero snapped back at him. The remark made Relena blush and she felt her heart flutter.

“They are alive,” Heero's voice was strong and solid, “Look at the sandwich,” he ordered. Wufei looked down and the color drained from his face, the expression echoed on the faces of Zechs, Trowa, and even Quatre, though the blonde had been almost positive of what he would see, even before he saw it. Tendrils of green vine were wrapped around the sandwich, like a snake around a mouth, and bits of it disappeared under the vine, accompanied by sickening, loud, wet sounds.

“Oh my god,” Wufei whispered, taking a step back, away from the terrible sight, but he almost screamed himself when he stepped on more vines and he realized that they were completely surrounded by them. Quatre watched him with flat, expressionless eyes.

“It's like I said,” he intoned softly, with no hint of boasting or arrogance, “Duo will follow us no matter where we go. He's everywhere, in every piece wood, every leaf. He's never going to let us go.”

Relena wanted to protest, but she could physically feel the truth in his words. Even now, though she couldn't see him, she could feel the malicious spirit watching them. Still, the fear that she felt knowing that was overshadowed by the fact that Heero, though subtle, had stood up for her. It was enough to make her heart ache.

“What does he want?” Wufei asked in crazed desperation, “If he just wants to kill us, why not get over with? Is he just playing with us?!”

“It doesn't matter,” Trowa reminded them, “Our parents will come in the morning.”

Relena shook her head frantically.

“It's never going to be morning.”

Trowa gave her a sharp look.

“She's right,” Quatre agreed, “It's an endless night. He won't let it end.”

“That's ridiculous!” Zechs said sharply. He couldn't take anymore of the craziness and took off for the door back into the house. The others followed him, but Wufei watched Heero closely. There was something wrong with his friend, something that wasn't entirely… earthly. He had no cuts like they did. At first he had assumed the one on his palm was one of them, but their cuts refused to heal and stop bleeding while Heero's had stopped bleeding after only an hour. Then, he had shown no shock at learning about the vines. Something was definitely going on, but he had no idea what it could be, something that he hated. That feeling of not knowing was what was driving him mad, little by little.

 

*****

 

“Morning should have come by now, so it's not completely ridiculous,” Quatre tried to point out as Zechs ignored him.

“They'll come for us,” Zechs said stubbornly.

Wufei lagged behind as they moved through the mansion, towards their room, keeping his eyes on Heero. He vowed that he would figure out what was happening with him. In a situation like this, he needed to solve something tangible before he lost himself to the impossibilities of the mansion. However, as they passed by one of the many `crossroads' of hallways, a glimmer of white caught his eye. His coal eyes widened and he froze.

`It can't be,' he told himself. Pale, delicate feet made the floorboards creak as the figure passed down the hallway. It moved slowly, but he only had a split second to see it. Still, he saw it clear as day. The figure was a woman with short black hair and Asian features, dressed in a beautiful, white, billowing gown. His body moved, ready to chase after her, but in a second, she was gone. A tear tracked down his cheek and his hand twitched, as though it wanted to grab at something that wasn't there.

“Wufei!” Zechs called to him, snapping Wufei out of his daze.

`It can't be,' his thoughts repeated as he followed Zechs mindlessly, like a robot or zombie. `It can't be.'

 

*****

 

How Quatre and Trowa managed to fall asleep, Wufei didn't know. He was tired, himself, but sleep had never felt further from his grasp than now. Not only was he terrified of what would happen if he closed his eyes, just for a few minutes, he had too many thoughts whirling in his head to attempt to rest. His eyes were fixed on Quatre and Trowa. They were sleeping in each other's arms, latched onto each other so tightly one of them had to be hurting the other. Wufei smiled bitterly.

`We used to hold each other like that, late at night when it was so dark and lonely, all we could do was hear our hearts beating. Meiran… what are you doing in this horrible place… You escaped, you shouldn't be here, you don't deserve to be here!'

Wufei's hands curled into fists. This wasn't fair. He had only seen the ghost for a second, but he knew that it was her. He was as sure as that as he needed to breathe to live. Chang-Long Meiran… the only woman he had ever loved. It seemed sick that he was seeing her in this place, yet, also, somehow appropriate.

 

*****

 

He and Long Meiran had been engaged to be married since the day they had been born. They had been born on the same day and their families had been connected for centuries, so the marriage had been an accepted deal. He and Meiran had grown up as good friends so neither of them had any problem with the engagement. Wufei didn't know who fell for whom first, but by the time they were thirteen, they had already been dating for awhile. Meiran had been the most beautiful girl in the world, smart and strong and just… perfect. However, when they turned thirteen, that perfection had faded. Meiran collapsed one day and his parents had taken her to the hospital, against her parents' wishes. The Longs were old fashioned, believing in family medicine instead of doctors and hospitals. In the end, Meiran had been diagnosed with heart cancer and she only had a few months to live. He blamed her parents, but not as much as he blamed himself. She had been tired for months before that, had grown more and more frail, but her parents had relied too much on remedies that were useless and he had preferred to believe that everything was fine instead of discovering that she was sick.

 

*****

 

Wufei looked down at his fiancé as she slept, her face pinched in pain. His and her parents sat around her futon, watching and waiting for the slight indication that she could be leaving them. Her hair, usually done up in adorable pigtails, was loose and mussed by sweat, the scent of sickness clinging to every strand. She was horribly pale, her skin tight as she had lost a lot of weight in only a few months. She still looked beautiful to him, though, her small body looking so pretty in her white dress, the dress, he was sure, she would die in. Her eyelids fluttered open and he stared into her ebony eyes.

“Meiran…” he murmured. She smiled softly at him and his heart clenched when he saw the urge to touch him in her eyes. He met her halfway, holding her thin hand.

“Are you in much pain?” he asked.

“No, not much,” she said in a small, fading voice and he knew that he was lying. He wanted to look away. He couldn't take watching her struggle, just to breathe. He almost wished that she would just die already and get it all over with.

“I love you,” she whispered, her eyes sliding shut once more. She was no longer able to stay awake for any longer than a few minutes at a time. Wufei composed himself, though he wanted to let his tears fall. He waited patiently for his parents and in laws to leave before letting go. He wanted to yell at Meiran's mother and father to take her to the hospital, where she could get the medicine that she needed to prolong her life, or at least a way to dull her excruciating pain. He watched in torture as his fiancé and best friend moaned in pain in her sleep. He closed his eyes again, his fingers caressing the ring he had put on Meiran's finger. The tears refused to stop as he gripped at her hand.

“I'm so sorry, love,” he whispered painfully.

 

 

The next morning, they all awoke to find that Meiran had died some time that night.

 

*****

 

Wufei's nails dug into his palms, drawing blood as he watched Quatre and Trowa sleep peacefully. It was because of Meiran's death that he had moved to Japan, but he didn't blame her for his current… dilemmas. He turned away from Quatre and Trowa, unable to handle watching the sweet lovers any longer. He could have had that, but now, there was nothing and that goddamn ghost was using his love's death to torment him! He lied on his stomach, his leg aching, but he only wished that he could feel more pain, could have more punishment for being responsible for losing the one good thing in his life.

 

*****

 

Heero opened his eyes and found himself back in the courtyard. In the time that he had spent in the mansion, he had accepted the fact that, in order to stay sane, he had to accept things as they were, even if they were impossible. However, the logical part of his mind stubbornly clung to things like time and space and physics, so when he suddenly opened his eyes and found himself outside, he was terrified. Was he stuck back in the vision, or was this something even more awful? He knew that the ghost, Duo, could do whatever he pleased in this place, there didn't have to be a reason for it, but he still searched for one. Ignoring his original impulse to scream, Heero looked around his surroundings. He realized that he should have become accustomed to things like this happening the second he had seen the tortured boy in the mirror, but he felt like he was losing his footing. He didn't understand anything anymore. Why were his friends being cut, but the ghost was sparing him? It didn't make any sense to him. What was even more confusing was his sudden emotional connection to the spirit. He wanted to help him, even knowing that it was Duo holding the doors closed and torturing them this way. He couldn't stand the accusations of the other spirit or the vision of him being cut, his blood spilling on the vines…

Heero's blue eyes widened as he suddenly realized what it was about the courtyard that was bothering him, the thing that was different… there were no vines. There was soft grass under his feet, but not a trace of the sinister, carnivorous vines. That was something else all together… he could feel the grass under his feet, could feel the light breeze and smell the blooming cherry blossoms. The last time he had been stuck in a vision, he had only been able to see things, not feel them. The sudden… realness of it was shocking to him. He could hear birds singing in the trees surrounding the mansion and he realized that everything was brand new. The grass and flowers were freshly cut and maintained by an obvious professional, the wood of the mansion looked perfect with not so much as a scratch. The stone of the well was absent of algae, but his eyes widened when he saw the large well.

On the edge of the well sat a young boy about six or seven years old wearing a very familiar, sleeveless, white kimono, with an equally familiar chestnut braid trailing down the child's back, though it must shorter than the ghost's.

`Duo…' Heero thought in shock, `but he's alive… this isn't a ghost, this is when he was still alive. But… he's just a child…'

The sight of Duo's bare arms as his hands lay on the flat surface of the well, pale and smooth, absent of any of the scars he would get later in life, was heartbreaking. Heero wanted to reach out and touch him, but he didn't dare. Heero walked around the well, so he could look at the child's face. He took a deep breath when he met deep violet eyes that looked right through him.

`He's so beautiful…' Heero thought. Those eyes were different than the ghost's, bright, alive, filled with childish excitement for everything around him. The bells tied to his ankle jingled as the boy swung his legs. Suddenly, Duo stuck two fingers into his mouth and whistled loudly. Heero's eyes widened as he watched a large crow fly toward the boy and land on his outstretched hand. He felt a chill crawl up his spine, but he wasn't sure why.

“Chii-chan!” the boy smiled wide, petting the crow on the head with his other hand. Heero's breath stuck in his throat at the sound of his voice. It was first time he had heard it, undistorted by death or malice. It was lovely, just like the rest of him.

`This is ridiculous, I'm falling in love with a ghost…' Heero realized, but though the idea was silly to him, the reality of it wasn't. He did feel a strange sort of affection for both the living boy before him and the older ghost that had reached out to him inside the mirror. He wished that he could make that spirit smile, like this child was now.

The crow make a deep chirping noise as the boy's fingers stroked its feathers. Duo reached into his obi and took out a scrap of meat, feeding it to the bird. Heero chuckled. It was a childish thing, hiding things in an obi. He remembered when his mother had taken him to the village summer festivals and he had had to wear a yukata. The obi had been much smaller, but he had hidden snacks and toys in it to keep himself occupied (1).

“That's a silly name for a crow, isn't it, teishu-san? (2)

Heero whirled at the somehow familiar, but equally alien voice and felt his heart stop in his chest. Approaching the well from the porch was a child that looked exactly like him. The boy had to be about ten or eleven, maybe even twelve, dressed in a dark blue yukata, the same messy chocolate hair and smoldering blue eyes as Heero's own, only, this boy walked differently and the way he spoke was different. Heero realized that they were talking in an older dialect of Japanese, which made sense if what he was seeing was centuries ago. No, this boy wasn't him… not only was it impossible, but there was something about him that was very different. Duo's face scrunched up cutely, making a strange heat and sense of protectiveness fill Heero's chest.

“Don't call me that!” he protested, “Besides, Chii's a good name, tomodachi (3),” the longhaired boy teased. The older boy ruffled his hair.

“Helen-sama will be upset that you're feeding her bits of your dinner,” the boy scolded.

“But, she's hungry,” Duo pouted. The other boy rolled his eyes and, digging into his own, smaller obi, produced a bit of fish. The crow watched the fish with hungry eyes, making a happy screeching noise when the boy fed it to her.

“Hypocrite,” Duo said with a grin.

“How did you learn that word?” the boy pressed.

“Dorothy-chan taught me it,” Duo said.

The dark haired boy sighed.

“Don't listen to her anymore, Duo-san,” he advised.

Heero blushed as Duo leaned his entire body against the other boy's arm.

“It's alright,” Duo murmured, putting his arm down, making Chii fly off, “You're the only friend I need. We'll always be together, right?”

“Baka,” the other boy said with an affectionate smirk.

 

*****

 

Quatre awoke slowly, in the same dark place that he had fallen asleep in. He groaned softly. Not this… not again… was it always going to be the same, up until the moment of his death? It was getting colder and colder in the mansion and that lack of heat made his eyes widen and he sat up straight. He searched around the room for any sign of life. The moon was still fully, its light illuminating the room, showing him that he was utterly, completely alone. He realized that it was not the cold that had awoken him, but the absence of his lover. Not only that, but all of his friends had vanished, too. All of their things, back packs, water bottles, even their sleeping bags, had all vanished. He got to his feet quickly. How could they have left him behind? Had Relena finally gone through with her insane plan of leaving him behind? No, that couldn't be true. Even if what she had suggested, that it was because of his abilities that the house was… coming alive, even if he had fallen asleep and all of the doors and windows had opened again, Trowa would never leave him behind. Something else, something terrible, had happened.

Quatre abandoned his things and ran out of the room.

“Trowa!” he screamed. The long hallway echoed the sound, almost as though it was mocking him, but there were no other sounds. No creaks, no chatting of familiar, or unwanted, voices, just an endless silence, ending and beginning once again at the sound of his own voice. He shivered in the darkness of the hallway.

“Heero, Wufei, Zechs!” he continued to yell, “Relena!”

There was nothing, just more echoes of his voice as he walked towards the staircase. It couldn't be… he couldn't be alone, not in this horrible place… Quatre shuddered as fear gripped his heart, but he tried to deny it as the cold. For all of his psychic abilities, he was horribly vulnerable in this place. The ghosts could invade his dreams, his mind, and destroy his sanity so easily. So, what was it waiting for? And what had happened to his friends? Had they been swept away while they had all been dreaming?

 

*****

 

 

Zechs couldn't remember what he had been dreaming about, but it was something terrible, so he was glad when he finally woke up. It was a relief to just open his eyes and know that, against all the odds, he was still alive. That was how he had fallen asleep in the first place, by just giving up his fear and replacing it with apathy. Whether he lived or died, he would awake in the same hell until those doors downstairs opened. He didn't know when it had happened, but he had given up on any optimism regarding being rescued during a morning that would never come. However, though the act of opening his eyes was a huge relief, what he saw made him get to his feet as swiftly as he could. He was somewhere else, somewhere new. It was clearly one of the guest rooms, but which one, or how he had gotten there, he couldn't figure out.

“Shit!” he swore. The only comfort for him in the strange room was the blanket that had been thrown over both mirrors in the room. If he had to rationalize something that seemed completely illogical, he would say that the ghost was, somehow, linked to the mirrors. It didn't make him feel completely safe, but it was better than staring at his own reflection, wondering if the longhaired spirit would come out of there at any second to choke the life out of him. The things was, like his little sister, he, too, had a strange affinity for horror movies and he was well versed in spirits and vampires and such, or at least, until coming here, he had thought he was. However, this ghost, their ghost, did not act as ghosts `should', or at least as Hollywood saw them. He wasn't picking them off one by one. He wasn't making things fly around the room or possessing any of them. Really, he hadn't threatened any of them. And yet, there was some horribleness about him that made them sense that their lives were in danger. The movies rarely touched on those bits, the part about the mere feeling of the supernatural that wormed its way into your brain like both a hungry parasite and a raging fire, turning you inside out until you were no longer you anymore. He had never been this scared, this displaced before, and that feeling made him want to scream.

Zechs went to the sliding door and opened it, breathing in relief when he recognized the upstairs hallway. The last thing he wanted was to be lost. Really, he had only been moved a few rooms away from theirs, though whether he had been actually taken or had somehow sleep walked, he didn't know. Right now, he didn't particularly care. He might have been scared and feeling lost, but in the end, Relena and her friends were his responsibility as the oldest, so his one and only priority was to find them and see that they were safe. Even in the dark of the mansion, it was fairly easy to find the room that he had disappeared from.

“Relena!” he called as he entered, but the moonlight showed him that the room was empty of everything, especially his sister.

“Fuck!” he nearly screamed, his words echoing through the wood of the room and hallway. The one thing he could not afford to do was lose his little sister! He ran a shaking hand through his bangs. This wasn't happening… didn't they know to stay put?! But, maybe they had awoken to find him gone and had left to look for him or, even worse, perhaps they had been spirited away in their sleep as well. All he knew was that he needed to find Relena. And what about Wufei? The boy's leg wouldn't let him to get far. Zechs' pale skin blushed darkly at the thought of the Chinese boy. It wasn't fair, in fact, it was pretty disgusting, he realized, to prioritize the safety of a boy he had a crush on over his own sister, but he did. It made him feel so guilty, he actually felt sick over it, but he was more worried about Wufei than Relena, and it had little to do with his handicap. He had fallen for the dark haired boy years ago, but Wufei had never seemed the type to be interested in someone like him. Now, trapped in this mansion, waiting to die or go insane from the feeling of being trapped, he deeply regretted his decision to never ask Wufei out, even for a simply coffee. He should have.

`I will,' Zechs vowed as he left the room and started to go to another room, systematically checking each guest room on the upstairs for any trace of the others, `If we survive this, I'm asking him out!'

However, with an insane spirit keeping the doors locked and watching them from the mirrors, shrouded and trapped by impenetrable wood and an endless night, such a promise seemed small, stupid, and utterly impossible.

 

*****

 

“Trowa!” Quatre screamed, running through the maze of downstairs hallways. He had no idea where he was going, his flashlight bouncing wildly as he ran. He was so lost, he wasn't sure where he was and he didn't have the map. No matter how loudly he screamed his lover's name, nothing ever answered him. He knew that he was panicking, that he should slow down and plan out his searching, but he was too scared. He didn't want to slow down, didn't want to stop by any mirrors or hear any sweet chimes of small bells. All he wanted was to find his lover, if he could do that, it didn't matter to him if the ghost found him or not. He came to an abrupt stop when he reached a maze of tatami rooms that were open, their doors broken, some completely missing. He looked back the way he had come, but he realized that he didn't remember which way he had come. He stumbled into one of the rooms and sat heavily on the floor, his back against the wall. Sobs bubbled out of his tight chest and he curled into a ball.

“Trowa… why did you leave?” he cried. He was alone, so utterly alone… it was dark and cold and there was no one… He didn't want to die this way! He didn't want to die alone!

 

“How does it feel?” a distorted, terrible voice filled his head, making him want to scream, “How does it feel to be left behind by the one you love most?”

“Shut up!” Quatre screamed, “Just shut the fuck up! Bring him back!”

Cruel laughter filled the room and Quatre's back stiffened when he heard heavy creaking approaching the room, accompanied by the bitter sweet sound of a bell.

“You're all going to die here.”

 

*****

 

It wasn't long before Zechs' patient search became frantic. He wished that they had cell phone service, just so he could figure out where the hell all of his friends and his sister had gone. He entertained the idea that they were outside, but after the scare they had had with the vines outside, he had no desire to go there. After almost tripping over his own feet, desperately exploring each upstairs room, he had to slow down out of fear that he would end up breaking his neck. As scared as he had been before, the house seemed even more terrible when he was by himself. The only consolation he had was that no one was around to see him panicking. His steps faltered as the light from his flashlight fell on some red spots on the floor. Using his flashlight, he tracked the spots until they became a huge smear, leading around the corner of the hallway.

“What the hell?” he wondered out loud, his stomach becoming heavy with fear and disgust. Was this just another trick of the ghost, or had it finally stopped playing such games and had killed one of them? What if he was the last one alive?

With shaking legs, he followed the thick smear of blood, at least, he was almost positive it was blood, until it led into an open room. He realized, simultaneously, that the room was one of the libraries and that they had visited it earlier, though they had closed the door when they had left. Every instinct he had told him to stop following the blood, that he really didn't want to know what was at the end of it, but he found himself putting one foot in front of the other, getting closer and closer inside the room. He let his flashlight guide him, following the trail of blood and not focusing on anything else. Suddenly, the small ray of light fell on something solid and Zechs took a stumbling step towards it.

“No…” his voice wavered in shock. His stomach clenched and bile rose in his throat. It was Wufei, or at least, it had been not too long ago. His body was twisted around and around like rope or a piece of licorice, the bones snapped like feeble wood, his black eyes staring up at Zechs, wide and blind, glassed over in obvious death.

“Oh, God!” the silver haired man gasped out, feeling the urge to vomit at the sight of a boy he had seen only a few hours ago, if that.

“Why?!” he took a step away from the horrible, twisted corpse, his legs becoming weak and he fell on his butt on the hard wood floor. His flashlight fell from his shaking fingers, crashing onto the floor and rolling away from him, illuminating another figure in the room. Zechs' wide eyes stared at the figure, taking in a small boy, looking very familiar except for its age. The longhaired boy just stood there, watching him and his friend's corpse with amusement. He couldn't have been older than seven, his clothes stained a brilliant red, just like the teenaged version of himself, but he watched them like it was a wonderful game.

“You,” Zechs snarled, terror and rage building up inside of him, “you did this, you killed him, why?!”

The little ghost grinned at him and started to laugh.

 

 

*****

 

 

Elizabeth Victoria Peacecraft leaned her forehead against the cool glass of the black Mercedes her husband was driving, her crystal blue eyes looking out, into the deep woods they were driving towards, a thick fog making it difficult to see the road ahead of them, but her husband had always been a careful driver.

“Are you sure that this is where they went?” she questioned as she looked towards the mansion looming in the distance. Her husband, Richard, took one of his hands off the wheel to hold her smaller, slenderer one and gave it a comforting squeeze.

“Zechs' note said that they would be in the mansion, working on their paper,” he reminded her, “They probably got caught up. They're still kids, after all, and the summer's almost over. They just decided to stay a little longer, make a sleepover out of it,” he tried to assure her, but she could hear the anxiety in his voice and she bit her lip. Both of her children should have come home last night, according to her son's note, but they hadn't. Zechs' car was missing and there phones were either turned off or there was no service where they were. They had called the police, but they were of no help, simply telling them to wait until tomorrow and if their children still weren't home, they would search for them. Elizabeth didn't see the point in that. She knew where her children were and for all she knew, they could be in danger.

“What if they're hurt?” she worried, “Relena always gets a little carried away and that house is so old. What if the roof collapsed? Mr. Chang, Yuy, Winner, and Barton also told us that they're children were missing, something terrible must have happened.”

“Relax,” her husband soothed, “We're going there now, we're going to find them!”

Elizabeth continued to chew on her lip as the car turned onto the forest path and they got closer and closer to the huge house.

“I hate that place,” she murmured.

Ever since she and her family had moved to Nasue, she had looked to the mansion, constantly looming in the town's horizon like some terrible, guardian angel, with hate and revulsion. The sight of the place creeped her out, but when she had heard about the stories of the place, the ritual sacrifices and various murders and disappearances, she had begun to despise it, like a whore house near a playground. As far as she was concerned, such a place should have been bulldozed years ago, yet here she was, going to that very same place to look for her daughter and son. The fog did not abate as they finally reached the entrance to the mansion, but the sight of Zechs' car parked outside was like a beacon to the both of them.

“They're still here!” Elizabeth cried, flinging open her door and running through the gate, which was open just a little bit.

“Wait!” Richard called, running after her, grabbing the first aid kit they had put in the car, just in case. He followed her to the door and she flung it open. The old wood door was a little bit stubborn, but gave way with a loud creak as she ran inside.

“Relena! Zechs!” she yelled. Richard shivered as he went inside. Even though it was the afternoon, and even with the fog the sun was shining brightly enough outside, it was dark in the house, like a tomb that no light could ever reach. His wife's words seemed to echo in a vast amount of endless space, but in the end, were swallowed up by the darkness. It was amazing to think that such a place existed in their own town. Elizabeth didn't seem to be so overwhelmed as she darted forward, screaming their children's names. He continued to run after her, feeling useless without a flashlight, following the wavy gold of her hair. He watched helplessly as she flung open door after door, only long enough to scream for Zechs and Relena before she was off to another door.

“Lizzie, stop it!” Richard made a grab for her, but she dove erratically down another hallway, evading him. He followed her, step for step, a part of him wanting her to stop, but another was just as desperate to find his children and if her random searching could find them…

 

The mansion was like a maze and, even though Richard had had a secret love of puzzles when he had been a child, he found himself getting easily frustrated. There were so many steps and rooms and hallways, it wasn't hard to see how people could get lost. Suddenly, through the darkness, he saw that his wife had reached the very end of one of the hallways and stood in front of a large door.

“Elizabeth,” he breathed. His heart was pounding at the sight of the door, though he couldn't figure out why, and he didn't want her to open that door.

“Don't,” he begged, but his wife seemed to be in a different time, opening the door without even hearing his words. The two of them walked into what appeared to be total darkness, yet they could see a few feet ahead of them. Richard reasoned that it had to be total darkness, since there were no windows in the new hallway and no lamps, either, yet, somehow, they could see where no visible light was shining. They stumbled together into the hallway. Richard squinted into the blackness and barely saw the shadows of ropes dangling from the ceiling that got clearer and clearer the closer they walked. He dived and dodged, trying to keep any of the ropes from touching him, though he wasn't sure if it was the chill in the achingly long corridor or the dark stains on the ropes, but they scared him enough to keep clear of them. The two of them walked and walked and walked until he was sure that the hallway had no end when his wife, only a few feet ahead of him, started to scream.

Richard's last thought before his entire mind was filled with white noise was that they had finally found at least one of their children and some of their friends. Four bodies hung by the ropes around their necks in front of Elizabeth and they recognized each of them. Quatre was the most recognizable out of the other two of Relena and Zechs' friends, his blonde hair clean and shimmering and his body whole except for the deep bruises around his neck, his blue eyes staring open. All of their eyes were staring open. Wufei's body was horribly mangled, twisted around and around in a terrible spiral. Trowa's body was slashed almost to ribbons, covered in huge cuts. Richard's wide eyes looked at his son, hanging there like all the others, only… he was untouched. It was obvious that it was the hanging that had killed him. It was also obvious to him that, that no one but Zechs himself could have hung him like that. His son had committed suicide… had he killed and hung his friends as well? But, the question that started to break through the white noise, little by little, was where were Heero and Relena?

Elizabeth kept screaming. (4)

 

*****

 

Heero, Relena, Quatre, Trowa, Wufei, and Zechs all awoke at exactly the same moment, all of them, except for Heero, choking on their screams. Quatre and Trowa grabbed at each other's hands, their nerves tingling at the feeling of contact when their minds had believed they would never get that privilege again. Zechs sought Wufei out in the same way, but only with his eyes, feeling some deep rooted tension release him when he saw that he was alive and well, but the image of his twisted body stayed with him, like an overlapping image he couldn't shake. Relena, herself, couldn't stop shaking with what she just saw. She wished it was like all of her other dreams, once she had woken, it would start to fade, but it was just as clear, just as vivid, as when she had been asleep. She wondered if she was still asleep, if she had been sleeping all along.

“What the hell was that?!” Wufei demanded, struggling out of his sleeping bag to stand and look over his friends, his leg feeling like a solid weight. Sure enough, all of them were accounted for and mostly ok, except they each had new slashes on some parts of their bodies, a little deeper, bleeding a little bit more, along with the older scratches.

“I was dreaming,” Trowa murmured as he wrapped his arms around Quatre and his lover melted in his embrace, “we had all gotten separated.”

“I woke in this room,” Quatre said, “all alone. I ran all over the place looking for all of you, but we were lost, disappeared. Then, Duo came to me…”

“I was in a different room,” Zechs continued where Quatre had left off, “I searched and searched-,”

“But you found me dead,” Wufei said in a spooked voice, “I don't remember what happened, one minute I was looking for all of you and the next… I don't know.”

“I dreamt that our parents came looking for us,” Relena said, looking at her brother, “they came here, but when they found us… we were all dead, except for Heero and I. It was like… we had disappeared into nothingness.”

All seven of them felt a chill go down their spines at her words.

“It felt so real,” she whispered. Wufei shook his head.

“They're just dreams,” he said stubbornly, “I mean, it's still dark out,” he gestured to the small window in the room which showed them a black world outside of the mansion.

“My watch says we've been asleep for ten hours,” Quatre announced.

“Your watch is broken,” Zechs said gruffly.

“It's insane, isn't it? Quatre mused, “According to my watch, two days have passed, but it's still dark, like an endless night…”

“Like I said, your watch is broken,” Zechs insisted, but deep down, he didn't believe that at all. He knew exactly what Quatre was talking about, the feeling that they were stuck in the same hour, over and over and over again, in an unending loop. It was impossible, insane, and terrifying. It felt like they had never slept at all, like he had spent the last ten hours wide awake, running, always running. He watched in concern as Wufei limped to the door.

“Where are you going?” Quatre asked, “We shouldn't separate.”

“For the record,” Wufei said in a sharp voice, “I don't think it matters how many of us there are. Whether we're alone or together, this thing can kill us and there's nothing any of us can do about that. The reason for that is that we know next to nothing about this ghost. Rule number one of combat: know you're enemy. We're at war and something in this mansion has to tell us who and what this thing really is.”

None of them could deny that Wufei was right, but Zechs seemed to be the only one who wanted to follow him out of the room.

 

“So, where are we going?” Zechs asked as he helped Wufei down the hallway, his limp getting worse and worse.

“The Master Bedroom,” Wufei responded, sounding like his mind was a mile off.

“We can't open it, we tried once,” Relena reminded him. Wufei shook his head.

“We have to keep trying. There has to be something in there. The Master of this house probably kept something, some clue we can use. If it still won't open, we'll keep looking. I'm not going to sit around until this thing decides to stop playing games and tear us all to shreds.”

 

Heero watched his friends walk off towards the Master Bedroom, but hung back in the hallway. He didn't know why he didn't call out to them or tell them what he was going to do, but he hung back and kept silent as they disappeared into the darkness. He didn't need a map to find the red door of Duo's bedroom since it was so close to the Master Bedroom. He reasoned that his friends probably wouldn't even realize he was missing before he caught up with them again. Still, he felt guilty leaving them behind. Wufei was right, it was useless sticking together, but what little comfort they could get out of their situation couldn't be worthless. However, he felt no fear navigating through the house in the dark and he couldn't figure out why. It was as though some deep part of himself knew that the ghost wouldn't attack them, not now anyway. He was equally confused about how heavy his heart felt, opening that red door again.

 

*****

 

The bedroom was exactly the same as they had left it and it was something of a relief to Heero that nothing had changed. Just like before, he felt sick when he entered, like a strange sort of vertigo or nausea. A strange painful pressure attacked his chest as he took in the room with the light of his flashlight. He leaned down near the dresser to pick up one of the strewn, violet obis. It looked like the same one the little boy in his vision had worn and the ghost wore. He wondered if the reason why the room was such a mess was because the last time Duo had been here, there had been a struggle. His mind wandered to the cell hidden behind the walls and wondered if the little boy he had seen in his dream had ever been up there. The thought sent a shiver through him. That child had been so bright, so beautiful, he couldn't bear the thought of the child or the older boy being chained up in that horrible place. He stood up, letting the obi fall through his fingers, and went through each drawer, collecting the journals as he went. He didn't know exactly why he was doing it when he couldn't read the old words, but it made him feel good to have a mission, no matter how useless. He had heard that the key to beating stress was keeping busy and it seemed right somehow. When he had all the old journals collected and stored in his back pack, he looked over at the lattice nervously. There was one more that he should get, the most important one, really. It was the only one where he could read any of Duo's words, in a place that might have been where the boy had died, yet he really didn't want to go back up there, especially alone. Wasn't there some unwritten rule that the place where someone died was also where their ghost was the strongest? After everything that had happened, he was a bit afraid of the ghost getting any stronger. But, it felt like that journal, and those words he had read, were calling him. He shouldered his back pack, opened the lattice, and crawled through.

 

 

*****

 

The cell seemed even more horrible when he was by himself, absent from the warmth of his friends, cold and distant from the rest of the house. He crouched to enter the cell, taking a deep breath. He kneeled down to inspect the shackles he had only glanced at early in the day, though it seemed like weeks ago. They were indeed chained to the floor with not enough chain to do more than stand up and walk two feet. The inside of the shackles were stained dark with old blood. He shuddered and let it drop to the floor with a clang. He turned to retrieve the book and froze. Duo was sitting on the floor in front of him, his pale ankles chained in the shackles. He looked up at Heero with violet eyes brimming with tears. A lone tear trailed down Heero's cheek. The oddest thing was that the kimono he was wearing was pure white, not a single drop of blood staining it.

“Duo…” he murmured, “You have to help us.”

He didn't know why he asked the ghost for help when it was responsible for all of their problems, but he couldn't believe that the crying boy before them would hurt them.

“Please, help me. I don't want to kill. Don't make me kill. Please…” the boy's voice was distorted, like the other ghost they had seen, but unlike that one, this voice was only filled with sorrow, not evil or malice. Suddenly, the spirit vanished as though it had never been there.

` `Please help me',' Heero thought, `But what can I possibly do?'

 

*****

 

Wufei, Relena, and Quatre watched as Zechs and Trowa wailed on the Master Bedroom door, uselessly as it didn't budge an inch. Quatre looked back down the hallway, nervously. Heero had disappeared and what scared him the most was the possibility that spirits hadn't whisked him away, like in his dream, but that his friend had chosen to walk off on his own. Something was going on with Heero, something that, even with his abilities, he couldn't possibly begin to understand. He wanted to hate Heero for it, for endangering himself and keeping secrets during a time when none of them could afford any. Still, he didn't tell the others that the Japanese boy was missing, didn't want any of them to know that there was something wrong. They were all like violin strings, ready to snap if things got any tighter and putting any suspicious light on one of their own would probably be the breaking point. At the very least, they would end up screaming at Heero about putting himself in harm's way, but Wufei was right. It didn't really matter if they were by themselves or together.

 

“You're all going to die here.”

 

Quatre shuddered. When had he started to worry about Heero? If he had to make a guess, it was when his parents had told him that Heero had been admitted to the hospital because of the car crash, but that still wasn't quite it. He had been worried about his friend's injuries, but it wasn't until later that he had started to think that there was some darkness in Heero that was begging to break out. Maybe that was why the ghost was singling Duo out, because he had wished for death after his parents had died. Heero had never outright acted suicidal, it was just a feeling that Quatre had, that Heero's mind was close to death. He had always been a little bit distant, as though he was in a high place that none of them could hope to reach, but after the accident, it was as though their friend was spread thin, nearly transparent to the rest of them. Heero, drunk at the time, had once told him that he felt more alive, more real, when he was dreaming than when he was awake. At the time, Quatre had thought it was just drunken nonsense, but he wasn't so sure anymore. They were all so stressed, on the urge of breaking, but with Heero, it was hard to tell. It could be that he was just hiding his fear inside, silently, or… it could be that he wasn't afraid at all. It could be that he was glad that his death was finally coming for him, or he was just so apathetic that he didn't care. Quatre didn't think that was true, or rather, he didn't want to believe it. There were times when Heero seemed like the friend they had always known, and others where he was just so distant, it was actually terrifying to watch. He saw Trowa stop pushing at the door with a defeated stance and knew that they were all giving up. He hadn't expected anything else, though it did pique his curiosity in wondering what was in that room.

“So, you still can't get it open?” Quatre jumped as Heero spoke from behind him. He whirled, feeling elated that his friend was alright, but still annoyed at what he had done.

“Not without a battering ram, and even then…” Zechs said with a shake of his head. Wufei gave out a frustrated little snort and walked back down the hall, towards the stairs, Zechs following him like a lost puppy as the rest of them ran to catch up.

 

*****

 

Somewhere in between the stairs and stumbling into the workshop, Wufei's leg had turned into a solid mass of stone. He could no longer limp with it, the pain and stiffness becoming unbearable, and he sagged to the floor, fortunately having enough grace left to make the move less shameful. It seemed like his body was constantly betraying him, just because of his mistakes. He was worthless in that respect. He kept making the same mistake over and over again, hoping that things would get better, that time would heal all of his wounds, but that was just a lie, he easily overestimated himself, thinking that he could turn his heart, his emotions, to stone, but they kept bubbling up and overwhelming him. He had no doubt that that was why he was seeing Meiran now, after so many years. His own guilt ridden, turbulent soul was going over her echo, her spirit, like some obsessed voyeur. He had known, for a very long time now, that he could never let her go. She was his world, just like she had been when she was alive and he was sure that she would be his death, as well.

 

*****

 

 

Meiran had been dead for three years and so much had changed in Wufei's life. He and his father had moved to a different country, a different town, a different house. He had made new friends, gone to a new school. To the outward observer, it would appear his life had become fresh and new, but inside, the darkness still lurked. To him, everything was exactly the same. As long as Meiran was dead and far from him, it would always be the same. He wanted to be with her, wanted to see her more than anything he had ever felt before. Moving on, becoming whole again, seemed so completely impossible. He had known her for so long, seeing her beautiful face every day had become as natural as breathing, but now… there was this huge, horrible void inside of him that was eating away, always eating. It wasn't just that it was too hard to pick up the pieces, he just didn't want to. He couldn't see the point in going on. Still, for three years, he suffered in silence, completely alone as father continued to think that he was doing fine. He wondered if he would ever forgive him for stealing him away from the only home he had ever known, his and Meiran's home. He loved him, but deep down inside, he also secretly hated him. He supposed that if he couldn't forgive himself, he wouldn't forgive his father. How did people cope with this sort of thing, anyway? He felt like he was walking around without a soul. He couldn't taste anything, couldn't feel anything but loneliness and ache, and every time he felt his heart beat in his chest, it shocked him. He thought that this must be what hell was like, just standing still while the world passed you by, waiting for something that would never happen. Waiting for the one you loved to come back to you, knowing full well that you are so very, very alone, screaming and raving in the dark until you lost every drop of yourself. You become jaded, bitter, and so very angry. How could you not hate the rest of the world for coveting what you have lost? (5)

 

“Wufei, you haven't told me anything about your classes yet,” his mother's chipper voice gained his attention again. His coal black eyes met hers and for a moment, he hoped that she couldn't see the darkness in them that he couldn't quite hide. At the pretty smile on her familiar face, he felt a deep rage fill him. He didn't want her to be happy, especially not to see him. He didn't want to see anyone smiling ever again. How could she possibly be happy to visit him of all people? He, who had destroyed his future and happiness so swiftly, without a thought. He wanted to wipe that smile off her face with a swift slap. He ignored her, stirring his rice around in the bowl with his chopsticks as he and his parents ate their dinner. His mother was only visiting for a few days since she and his father were still in disagreement over his relocating Wufei to Japan, but he wished that she had never come. All she did was remind him of everything he wanted to forget, but was too scared to. Every time she opened her mouth, he felt a sharp pain in his chest. He wanted to go home, even if he couldn't bear it.

“'Fei,” his mother began and he couldn't take anymore. He slammed his hands on the table and stood, vivid anger creating the first real life in his eyes for a very long time.

“Why are you here, Mother?” he demanded. She looked at him with wide, shocked eyes.

“Why didn't you just stay away?!” he snarled, “What's the point of you being here?! Do you think that I want you visiting me like this?! Why don't you just stay in China and leave me in peace! You're not making this any easier for anyone except yourself! And don't call me `Fei', don't ever call me that again!”

The color drained from his mother's face as he screamed at her. There was a part of him that knew he should feel badly about hurting her, but it was small and fading. He greatly preferred the feeling of rage to the ones of grief and emptiness. Anger he could release, little by little, but he realized now that his grief was something he would have to live with for the rest of his life. What scared him the most wasn't his lack of guilt at venting his rage at his mother, but that one day, the anger would no longer come to home and he would only feel loneliness. But, until then, he reveled in the only strong emotion he had felt since Meiran's death, taking the still warm porcelain bowl that held his rice from the table and throwing it against the wall. Seeing it shatter made him feel oddly better and he wished to do the same to the table they were sitting, but the sudden urge to just leave, to get out of the stifling house with his stifling parents was more overwhelming than his need for destruction. He rose quickly from his seat and stormed out of the kitchen, grabbing the keys to his father's car on his way out, leaving without a single word to his parents.

“Wufei, stop!” his father called after him, but he was only responded by the sound of the front door slamming shut in a brutal force.

 

*****

 

It had been a rainy night and visibility had been poor, so when Wufei had turned up in the hospital the next day in critical condition, his parents had assumed the obvious, in his anger, he had lost control of the car. At the time, he had realized just how pathetic he was as his mother sobbed at his bedside. He realized that, if he died, he would make his parents suffer, just like how Meiran had made him suffer. Knowing that sort of terrible pain first hand, how could he possibly give that pain to his family, the only family he had left? So, he had told them that it was just a horrible accident, that the rain had obscured his vision, only for a second. He told them that he was sorry, he didn't want to argue anymore, he was just glad he was still alive. But… it had all been a lie. He had gone out that night with the intent of joining his love in the only way he knew how. He had left the house because he had needed to escape from memories and pretending to be just fine in front of his parents, but as soon as he had started the engine to his father's car, he had known exactly what he was going to do. Yes, visibility had been poor, but he had seen the tree with perfect clarity. What he hadn't seen was his own body's desperate need to survive. Instead of dying, he had awoken in a white, sterile room with his mother's tears soaking his bed sheets. In that moment, he had seen things better than he had for a very long time. Meiran would have hated him for what he had become and he had clung to that belief ever since the accident to try to make the most out of his life. The world was still dull and tasteless compared to what it had been like when she was alive and every day was painful, the need to just end the hollowness in his chest almost like a compulsion, or an addiction, but he had fought and fought and for the first time, he felt like he was finally moving forward from his betrothed's death.

“Are you alright?” Zechs asked as he watched Wufei sit down heavily and stiffly, his leg making the move awkward. Wufei looked up at him with hollow black eyes, still partially caught in his memories and Zechs struggled to find his breath at the haunting look. But, like it had never been there, the Chinese boy schooled his expression quickly.

“I'm fine,” he murmured. He looked down at his hands, suddenly feeling a stinging pain. It was another cut, worse than the others, starting to drip blood down his arm. He saw that the others were sitting down in the room, looking distant and forlorn, but he didn't blame them. Zechs sat down next to him and brushed his long, silvery hair away from his neck, showing a long cut trailing from the back of his neck to the side, blood streaming down his shirt.

“They're getting worse,” the taller man said in a low voice, so the others couldn't hear, “If they keep getting deeper like this… we might bleed to death. All we have is a very basic first aid kit.”

“And all of us have them, all of us except Heero?” Wufei asked, looking over at his Japanese friend briefly, who was sitting near Quatre, looking through what looked like an old leather book. Zechs followed his stare, also looking away quickly.

“Yes,” he said cautiously. The thought had occurred to him, too, how Heero had only gotten one cut and that was from shattered glass. He didn't want to dwell on that for very long, though. That was how these things started, the doubt, the paranoia… but it was still so odd, he just didn't want to start doubting a friend when they were all they had to rely on.

“What do you think it means?” he asked Wufei, but the younger boy just shook his head.

“I don't know,” he admitted, but he couldn't shake the feeling of suspicion as he thought about the cuts, and Heero's immunity to them.

 

*****

 

 

Quatre watched Heero flipping through Duo's old journals as he leaned heavily against Trowa's arm. He wanted to ask how Heero had gotten the journals, but he already knew. That was what Heero had been doing when he had left their side for only a few minutes. It made him feel slightly better knowing what Heero had been doing, even if he still couldn't understand it. There was a lot that he didn't understand in this place and he was starting to accept those things as what they were. At least he hadn't risked his life just for the sheer thrill of it, though he never would have believed Heero to be the type. Trowa was asleep, sitting against the wall. Quatre couldn't understand how he could just fall asleep like that, but he knew how tired he was. They were all tired, more so than they should be. They had slept well, but human beings weren't meant to live like this, in constant fear and darkness, time eroding away into nothing. Sleep was useless, it only brought terrible dreams. Dreams that could be something more… something worse.

“What did you dream about?” Quatre's question came out harsher than he had intended, but Heero seemed undaunted, only briefly looking up at him, slightly annoyed to be interrupted from his reading.

“Nothing,” he lied, “I didn't dream at all.”

It was a selfish reason, but Heero didn't want to tell Quatre or any of his friends about his dream of a younger, happier Duo. He felt jealous of the thought of anyone else knowing, like a petulant child that was unwilling to share his toys. It didn't matter anyway. Dreams weren't going to save them.

Quatre gave his friend a piercing look. They had known each other for too long to not realize when the other was lying. He thought that he should press it, demand to know what Heero had dreamed about, but he knew how stupid and useless that would be. It would cause a rift between them, verbally calling Heero a liar and trying to force him to say something he obviously didn't want to tell. Instead, he let the issue drop, keeping silent as he felt Trowa's warmth against his arm. Heero quickly returned to flipping through the pages of the old journal. Quatre carefully watched the pages, but saw little difference from when they had last looked through them, the pages stiff and yellow, the old ink faded and obscured, impossible to read. He watched as Heero opened the last of the journals, and remembered the last page, the only message they could read, with a heavy heart.

 

 

“It is so lonely here. I can hear the wind moving downstairs. It will not even reach me. I am truly alone…

 

 

 

 

 

… I know that it is inevitable, but I am afraid to die.”

 

 

 

Sitting on the cold tatami, not knowing when his life would end, in a few seconds or a few days, Quatre could feel the boy's fear strongly and it made his heart feel like it was being ripped apart. To know that you were going to die and that there was absolutely nothing you could do about it… even they had some tiny spark of hope that they would be rescued, however fleeting, but this boy, Duo, he had accepted his death as something… `inevitable'. How horrible was that? To die so young, probably all alone. What Quatre couldn't let go of was why, if there had been any reason, that Duo had lost his life. From his words, it had sounded like premeditated murder, or, considering how old the journals looked, even ritualistic murder. He knew it was a different country, with different beliefs, but the thought of anyone killing someone so young, for whatever reason, sickened him.

Heero stilled on the last page of the journal, where the message had been and Quatre caught his wide eyed, shocked expression easily. The message was still there, written in careful script, but much clearer, as though it had only been written a few years ago. What was even more incredible than that was the rest of the page, which had, somehow, become more legible since they had last seen it.

 

 

 

“I recall being here when I was much younger. Father brought me up here, just like he did this morning, and locked me in this dismal cage, only, this time, you can't stop it. Not anymore. It has not been so long since Father and the other priests woke me and chained me up here, but I already miss the sun. I miss walking with you in the courtyard, though it has only been a few days since our last stroll. It is so lonely here. I can hear the wind moving downstairs. It will not even reach me. I am truly alone

Are you waiting for them to come for you, too? Or, have they lied to me and have denied me the last good thing in my life? There is a dark part of me that wishes that Father and Mother are crying for what they are about to do. I hate this part of myself. I do not wish for them to hurt. I understand, this must be done, but I am so afraid. I just want to see you one last time, can I not have that one, small thing? But, truthfully, is it so small? If I die soon, keeping your face close to my heart, knowing I said goodbye properly, I think I could be happy. Even in darkness, and my own palpable fear, as long as you can live, I will be happy. I can tell myself these things, and yet, there is that dark part in me that threatens to turn that fear into hate. But, I will never hate you, or Mother and Father, if that were to happen… I would no longer be myself.

I know that it is inevitable, but I am afraid to die. I miss the smell of the cherry blossoms and the sight of your beautiful eyes. That scares me the most, knowing I will spend my eternity without those things, in the dark, in a place so lonely and cold, it will surely drive me mad. The thought that I will be saving all of you is no longer such a comfort to me in this fear. It should be, it was when I was a child, but now… I am so selfish and I hate myself for that.

Heero, I know it is difficult, believe me, I do know, but… if I must die, and we can no longer be together, please, promise me this…

Live. Live and have a wonderful life. Do not blame yourself, or my parents. No matter what happens… I will always love you. If such a thing is possible, I will be waiting for you. I'll wait all eternities, even to the end of this existence. I love you.

 

 

 

End Chapter 2

 

Man, that took forever to write. I know the end of this chapter probably raised a few eyebrows, and I will be exploring it later in the next chapter.

 

 

 

 

 

(1) My cousin's daughter does this -_- when they go to these festivals and she wears her kimono, she hides her mice in the obi so she can play with them. I might be a little bit biased, but I think it's adorable. For those of you who don't know what an obi is, it's the colorful, wide tie around the waist of the kimono. I don't know if you can use the same word for the tie of the yukata, which is a lighter kimono with less layers, used during the summer, but in this case, I'm going to use it for both. To clarify, Duo's Heero wears a male yukata, but Duo's kimono is a mix between the female kimono and the male one, not as tight and heavy as the female's, but more elegant than the male's.

(2) Means `Master', this will make sense when more of Duo's back story is revealed. It is sufficient to say that this particular `Heero', Duo's best friend, sees Duo as higher status than him and addresses him as such.

(3) Means `beloved friend' or `best friend'. Duo means it partially in teasing because Heero used a formal title for him.

(4) If I was a lazy bitch, I'd end the entire story here. Heero and Relena go missing and everyone else dies, THE END! But, that wouldn't make much sense and would leave too many questions, and I'm enjoying myself just a little bit too much, so on with the story!

(5) This was meant to be pretty ironic because it shows, a little bit, of what made Duo into the evil spirit. I had hoped that many people would get that instinctually, but I realize now that some would have to read the entire fic twice to get it. Hint: there are in fact many, many ironic things like this in the fic that you might not pick up on unless you know exactly what Duo's past is. Yeah, I know it's annoying, but I love seeing it in horror.