She cries like she’s never cried before, the tears running down to mix with the blood covering her face and clothes. Why? Why now? Just when everything was starting to make sense, this had to happen. Why was life so cruel? She thinks back to the first time they really met, two months after the “accident…”
5…
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She was walking back home after classes, two days after her eighteenth birthday, a block or two away from where she had been the first day, that fateful accident that had brought her face-to-face to that silver-haired demon, when she heard the sound of gunshots. Against her better judgment, she immediately ran directly toward the sound, for reasons that still escape her. She slowed as the explosive sounds died off, peering around a corner of a building. Somehow, she was almost unsurprised by what greeted her eyes. After all, hadn’t the same thing been happening the last time shots were being fired here?
The silver-haired man, who she had been told was named Steven by one of the doctors (“No last or middle name, that one. Just Steven. We don’t know who he is, but the top brass trusts him, and he’s a good surgeon, so we don’t complain.), stood holding a gun to another man’s masked head. At least, she assumed it was a man. Spent bullet casing and destroyed guns littered the ground along with a few bodies, and more hung out of windows, dripping blood onto the ground from various wounds.
“I’ll make this simple, since you seem to be rather busy peeing yourself. Who sent you? You can either tell me, or… I can rip your brain apart looking for it. Your choice on how painful death will be for you.”
The man was panicking, tears leaking from the holes in his mask. “Please, I don’t know anything, please don’t kill me!”
Steven smirked. “Weren’t you just threatening to rip me apart and feed me my internal organs before lynching me with my own intestines? You’re an awfully big Glass Joe for a professional assassin. Pitiful. What’s America coming to these days, if they can’t afford to send a real group of assassins to kill a class three Shifter. Oh well. If you insist you know nothing, I guess we’ll just have to do this the hard way.” He closed his eyes, and suddenly the man screamed as if his flesh was being scalded off. Haileigh covered her ears, retreating back behind the corner. What was going on? And why was that man screaming? Had he gotten shot and Steven touched it?
The screaming abruptly stopped, and the man fell to the ground, holding his head. Steven reopened his eyes and cracked his neck, stretching while talking, seemingly to himself. “Pity. He really did know nothing. He was the leader, too, or at least the one giving orders. I did get the name of their go-between, though, which means I have a lead… and to the person hiding behind the building, kindly step out and place you hands behind your head. Don’t even think about running or shooting as I can do both quite a bit quicker than you can.”
Haileigh swore. How could he have seen her? She stepped out and was pleased by the look of surprise on his face.
“You? Again? Are you serious… you’ve gotta be kidding me. Alright, karma, what have I done this time? Besides kill a couple dozen expert marksmen who were hell-bent on killing me first?” he groaned, raising his head upwards to the sky.
“Yeah,” she said, with far more confidence than she felt, “me again. What did you do to that man?”
He looked down at the man in question. “Oh, him? Just a standard frontal lobe face punch.” He stated, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. She gave him a confused look, and he realized she had no idea what he was talking about. “Think of it as a brute force attack on the mind’s defenses.” He explained. “It’s a simple smash and grab, a bit more heavy on the smash in his case, unfortunately.” He said almost apologetically, glancing down at the drooling idiot on the concrete, still clutching his head.
She stared at him blankly. “Wait, what? Are you smoking something? Because that made no sense whatsoever.”
He sighed and looked like he was about to go off on another lecture she wouldn’t get, but he was abruptly cut off by the whizzing sounds of silenced bullets flying by far closer than he would have liked. He swore like a sailor, grabbing her arm and dashing into the shelter of a nearby building.
“Why is it that assassins seem to prefer coming here to do their dirty work?” she half whispered, half shouted at him.
“Probably for the same reason I like it: because it’s a deserted area where sane people don’t go. This is more or less the official site for anyone who wants to start something!” he replied. Swearing at the slowness, he drew the gun from the holster on his hip he had slipped it into earlier and peaked outside, hastily beating a retreat as a bullet grazed his cheek. He swore again, touching the cut and cursing as his fingers came away bloody. He turned to her and spoke. “Look, I need to get to that other building. I have a rifle there I can use to take out their roof snipers.”
She nodded. “Ok, sure, but what do I have to do with it?”
He looked at her strangely. “You’re taking this rather calmly.”
She shrugged. “It’s not the first time I’ve been shot at. I have an insane cousin who makes these peeps look like pansies.”
He continued to stare. “That’s some cousin.” He finally said. “Do yourself a favor: in about three seconds, relax your body and empty your mind. Think about something simple. Ice cream, for example.”
She did as he asked. “OK… why am I… auuuggggghhhhhhhhghghghghghhhhhh!!!” Her sentence was cut short as he smashed his mind into hers. Because she had been thinking about something simple and pleasant and her body was relaxed, he slipped inside her conciseness quickly and shut down the pain, ending the screaming. He stretched, refamiliarizing himself with the inside of Haileigh’s mind and body. Then he took the gun from his own limp body before stashing his primary body (or simply prime) in a closet and dashing across the empty street to the building he had hidden the rifle in, feeling bullets whiz through the air around him. He ran through the lobby, shooting the two guards who were probably supposed to be protecting the stairwell and climbing the stairs to the second floor, opening the dumbwaiter on the second floor landing and grabbing the PSG1 he’d stored within. He’d decided it was his favorite rifle, so he’d stored it here for a later date. Conveniently, it was still here. Handy, that. He checked the clip. Full, as he’d left it. He continued climbing, finishing seven or eight of the mercs as he climbed. He assumed they were mercs, at least, as they seemed to be out of practice and didn’t work as a squad, implying distrust. Reaching the second to top floor, he ran to the window and cleared the windows of the two building opposite. He stared to turn, and suddenly time slowed down. He swore, realizing he was in critical danger again. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a grenade, the pin missing, flying through the air toward him, too far gone for him pick up and throw out the window. So he did the only thing he could. He jumped from the window, sliding the rifle onto his back in the same movement. As the room above him exploded, he just hoped he had taken out enough of the snipers.
“Sorry about this, Haileigh, but you’re going to wake up extremely sore. Think about it this way: you’re still alive.” he thought. Then he hit the ground, rolling twice and breaking the first lock on Haileigh’s muscles, taking advantage of the incredible increase in strength to turn the second roll into a jump that launched him through the second floor window of a nearby. Rubbing his legs, the muscles of which were already beginning to degenerate and tear, he opened an office desk and pulled out what he wished he had had earlier: a thermal grenade, a small bomb that creates a massive heat wave, killing everyone within fifty meters. He climbed to the top of the building and launched it onto the adjoining one, then ran back inside, covering his eyes against the blinding flash. He half-shifted out of Haileigh’s body, checking the surrounding area for remaining snipers. There were four, but they were too far away to see him, at least in theory, so he should be fine. He took the elevator back down, his legs cramping as the locks on the muscles resolidified to protect them from any further damage. He half-ran, half-hobbled back to the building he had left his prime in, stopping as the sight inside met his eyes. There were two guards standing in the room. One had his gun pointed to Steve/Haileigh. The other had his gun pressed to his prime’s head. He swore, cursing his oversight. The first began speaking, a bit nervously.
“Drop your gun and place your hands above your head.”
He smirked. “Sure.” He said, and slid the PSG1 across the floor to his prime. Then he executed a maneuver he had learned in his CQC class, running through the steps in his head.
“1. Get a weapon to your prime.
2. Fire on the man who’s holding the gun on you.” He fired on the man who was pointing the gun at him. His buddy, who clearly hadn’t been expecting this, snapped up his gun to Haileigh, hesitating just long enough for Steven to execute the next step.
“3. Shift out of the current body. It will collapse; rendering the bullet the other has undoubtedly fired useless. Reenter your prime.”
Haileigh’s body collapsed as he left it, no longer able to hold itself up.
“4. Slam your hand against the back of the assailant’s knees, knocking them over. Grab your weapon and put them out of their misery.”
After checking the weapon’s clip to see how many bullets it still contained, he looked up to see Haileigh pointing a gun at him. His gun, in fact.
“Alright, buddy, you’ve got two options. You can either answer my questions or I can open a new hole in you.” She stated flatly.
He laughed. “If you really want to threaten someone, it’s best to turn the safety off.” Of course it was off, but the second afforded to him by her hesitation as she looked down to check was all he needed. He shot forward like a juggernaut and smashed into her, his superior strength and weight easily allowing him to pin her to the ground and wrestle the gun from her hand. Not that he was very concerned about it. Even if she could work up the nerve to fire it, the recoil would most likely cause her to miss, as she was trying to use his 50 caliber pistol with one hand without compensating for it.
She was struggling admirably, but wasn’t really doing a whole lot. “Get off me, you sick freak!”
He raised up her torso and smashed it back into the ground, winding her and effectively stopping her movement. He felt massive rage building inside of him, though he wasn’t sure why. “Look, human,” he hissed, spitting her species as if it was poisonous to his tongue, “you cannot hope to understand what I am, what I do, and how insignificant your life is to me. So don’t even try. You’ll only get yourself killed fighting against the inevitable.”
She gasped for breath, finally managing to choke out “If I’m so insignificant…” here she paused for another gasping session, “why don’t you just kill me?”
He smiled evilly, his body moving without thinking “You know, that’s actually a great idea.” He picked up the gun and pointed it at her head. “Look here, smile, and wait for the flash.”
“Put down the gun and stand with your hands above your head.” The voice was unfamiliar and had come from the stairwell. Haileigh looked over Steven’s shoulder to see four gunmen toting G36s.
Steven slowly rose to his feet, dropping his weapons. He glared at the four with disturbing intensity, his red eyes flashing. One of the four noticed and began speaking.
“Hey Bravo, this one has the eyes. Do you think…?”
The leader nodded. “Yeah, this one’s a cat three. Be on guard, all.” Turning back to Steven, he spoke in a much harsher, snarky tone. “We’ve finally caught up with you, soulless bastard. Your Jedi mind tricks are useless here. You’re helpless. Come quietly and we won’t be forced to hurt you beyond repair.”
A growl was building deep within Steven’s throat. He cracked his knuckles and began talking quietly, with an air of menace that seemed to instill fear into the earth itself. “You really think I’m helpless? You assume I’m some kind of beast? Do you know anything of a Shifter’s true power?” his voice began to rise in intensity until he was shouting, “Who do you think you are? I am Steven Berian, only living reaper category Shifter in existence, and you… YOU ARE NOTHING BUT USELESS ANIMATED MEAT, AND I WILL SCOURGE YOU FROM THE FACE OF THE EARTH!” he roared, his voice ripping from his throat with a demonic-sounding tone filled with such poisonous fury it shook the ground.
One of the guards panicked, firing several times as he screamed in fear. Steven snapped the safety locks on his already large muscles and utilizing their unhampered power to match the speed and force of the bullets as his hand shot out and snatched the bullets out of the air as he spun and launched them back at the soldier who had fired them, shredding him.
“Next?” he asked in a sickeningly pleasant voice.
The remaining three men moved to shoot, but the silver-haired demon was too quick, instantly among them, taking them apart like an adult among children. It was all over in a few seconds filled with the sound crunching bones, sickening squelches, and agonized screams. He stood in the middle of their fallen ranks, splattered in blood. Slowly, he walked back toward her. Haileigh cowered in a ball on the floor in fear, feeling warm liquid between her legs, and simply prayed her death would be quick.
Suddenly, he screamed and grabbed his head, falling to the floor. He lay on his hands and knees, panting for a moment, before standing up. He looked at her quizzically before turning around and seeing the mess he had made of the mercs.
“S***.” was all he said. He turned to her. “I went crazy, didn’t I?”
She nodded. He swore again.
“Knew I should have taken more of those meds with me. And I thought I would never make that mistake twice.” She said nothing, simply watching him, waiting for the monster within to resurface. He looked at her. “Why are you so…oh. It wasn’t just battle fury. It was him.” He paused, looking almost…apologetic. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for you to see that.”
She still didn’t move. Sighing, he reached down and gently rubbed her temples. “Just stay calm. I’ll remove the memory for you. When you wake up, you won’t remember anything that happened here.” He slipped into her mind, slowly, taking care not to hurt her any more than he already had, heading for her memories. What he found there, however, surprised him. Pain. Loss. Loneliness. Hurt. Regret. Fear. Desperation. Depression. Brokenness. It caused him to stop and think.
“Why does this woman… feel like me on the inside? Why does she hurt so much? How can she stand it? Who is she?” He realized in that instant that he knew almost nothing about this woman he called Haileigh, who had twice interfered with his life, and who was somehow so similar to himself. He didn’t even know her last name. So he decided to do a little memory diving. Out of courtesy, (He always felt like being nice after having one of his episodes. Something about his rage being released violently.) he asked her permission.
“Haileigh?”
“Yes?” she replied, not quite understanding he was inside her head and therefore didn’t need a verbal answer.
“I’d like to learn a little bit more about you, alright, but it’s gonna be kind of a sensitive process, so if there’s anything too painful to remember, close the doors on it. I’ll try not to intrude.”
She nodded slightly, and he shifted inside her most personal place: her Requiem. A room full of the memories and people that make a person who they are. Hers was surprisingly empty, dimly lit and filled with broken doors, flickering lights, and shattered locks. It looked like a disused prison from a horror movie. Walking slowly down the long central hallway, he glanced through cell doorways, broken and whole.
He saw a small girl, idyllic and carefree, running through a field of flowers, only to come upon a smoking wasteland of what used to be a city. He saw her turn away and continue playing like nothing had happened.
He witnessed the same little girl, a little older now, fleeing with her family with an army behind them. He recognized the banner flying over the army. How could he not? It belonged to his own army. She had been one of the refugees in the Kaldaharn plains, when the government decided it was time to try out their new toys.
He saw the girl, not so little now, growing up in a strange environment with no father and people who were nothing but hostile to her.
He felt her pain as every night she went home to a family who was disappointed that she couldn’t be her sister.
He knew how her only friend had been her cousin Sharon.
He suffered her crushing disappointment when she received the news Sharon had gone crazy, killed three of her relatives, and was placed in an asylum. He wished it had been her parents who were killed.
He felt her hate through many family reunions as she experienced the fakeness and hypocritical nature of her “family.” He wished right along with her that they’d all just drop dead.
He felt her relief as she ran from them with her best friend Amanda and her despair when they finally caught up with her and dragged her back.
He saw her desperate attempts to attract the attention of uncaring authorities to show them how her family was nothing more than a front, a pretty face put on to disguise the neglect, the ridiculous posturing, and the abuse within her dysfunctional group of hellions.
He saw her finally being taken from her home after the counselor saw her bruises and picked up on the telltale signs of neglect after years of trying to ignore it in hopes she would confess her issues and placed with the woman she now loved as a mother.
He saw her finding a man who, despite all of his own issues, was able to care about and love her.
And at the end of the hallway, he came to a door half on, half off its hinges. A half pieced together memory, either very recent or very faint. He stepped through the door and saw… two images. One was of himself, a smiling, silver-haired doctor, though his eyes somehow portrayed the fact he had a hardened interior. The other was him, and yet was not. This him was huge, covered in the blood of thousands, silver hair stained as red as his eyes. And yet, he sensed that somehow, to her, these two people were one and the same to her, the good and the bad, with the real him, somewhere in the middle, representing… what? The beautiful? Perhaps, if this was indeed the metaphor he was imagining.
His musings were interrupted by a movement behind him. He turned to find Haileigh in front of a giant wall depicting him and all his actions. But this Haileigh was different. She looked different, younger, more vulnerable, which was how she truly saw herself on the inside.
“Satisfied?” she asked, in a soft voice, clearly nervous about him being here.
He nodded. “Anything you want to ask?”
“What’s in your final room?”
He swore, realizing she had gone through the door the other way, into his requiem, but he supposed it was only fair. “Alright. You’d like to see what lies inside me? Why not.” He said, shrugging and taking her hand before closing his eyes and shifting into his inner sanctum. This place was a strange one, an empty, desolated, desert like plain covered in the dim glow of twilight with deserted adobe brick dwellings leading to memories. Most went nowhere, however. Only one door truly led to the ones he cared about, the one at the end with the locked door. He walked up to it, Haileigh trailing behind him. The door disappeared as he placed his hand on it, and they stepped forward into the gloom. The place looked like a museum and smelled of old books and wet concrete just after rain. The memories were each displayed in little alcoves along the path.
Haileigh saw the institute Steven had grown up in.
She saw him training long after midnight, trying to earn the respect of faculty and students who seemed to always find nothing but fault with him.
She saw him sitting alone, working while he ate, for all the world calm and collected but really desperately hoping someone would come along who would accept him for who he was, so maybe he could stop trying so hard to impress uncaring perfectionists.
She saw him growing older and bitterer toward the world that had scorned him, tired of trying to measure up but continuing to try because that was all there was.
She saw the day he had finally found acceptance, meeting a woman named Nona and realizing that all the people he had been trying to impress weren’t worth his time.
And she saw the day Nona witnessed Steven’s other half, the day the facility was breached and disbanded for illegal genetic experiments, and rejected him, saying he was a monster and nothing either of them would ever do could change that, along with a warning from one of her friends, whose name was Shard, that if he ever came anywhere near her again, he would kill Steven.
She saw his life after that, a wandering, renegade life of putting his talents to use in the only way he knew how- killing. She saw his struggles to cope with the demon inside of him. She saw his attempts to change, getting a medical degree and becoming a part-time doctor when he wasn’t killing. She saw how she had met him, and how he was still trying to figure out where she fit in.
Finally they arrived at the last door. He opened it, and they stepped through onto a cliff overlooking an abyss. And emerging from that abyss was the midsection of a massive demon with silver hair, red eyes, and chains around its wrists stretching off into the darkness.
“This is what keeps me up at night,” he stated, looking up at the beast’s face, “the fear that someday, I may become this monster.” The demon roared, and Haileigh cowered behind him. He smiled at her. “Relax. It can’t hurt you. Only me…” he finished, staring into those crimson eyes.
“I think I’m ready to go now…”
He turned away from his nightmare. “Yeah. Let’s leave.”
Back in the real world, they each opened their eyes and looked into the others. They moved apart, not saying a word, and rose to their feet. She was the one to break the silence.
“If you don’t mind… I’d like to follow you a bit longer. In order to solidify my view of you.”
He smirked. “Much as I’d like to say yes, you aren’t in any state to go anywhere.”
She looked down at herself and swore.
Laughing, he continued. “Plus, I had to break the first of the safety locks installed on your muscles by your brain, so you’ve probably torn at least one, and you’ll be sore as all get out tomorrow. I’ll explain some other time, for now you need to rest.”
She grimaced. “Can you give me a ride home?”
“Yeah.”
“Good.” She replied. And then she fainted.
He shook his head, smiling (since when had he smiled this much?) and picked up her body. He reached into her pocket and retrieved her cell phone, preparing himself for the ear raping of the century as he dialed her mother.
“Excuse me, Miss Sterrin…”
He had to hold the phone a full foot from his ear to avoid being deafened.

He breathes again, despite the pain that surges through his chest when he does. His heartbeat echoes slowly in his ears, counting down the seconds to the moment it will stop. His memories are his only comfort now, pain sliding away in the wash of emotions in his requiem of the past.
4…
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(Haileigh’s school, two weeks after their glimpses into each other…)


Haileigh stepped off the curb, backpack heavy on her shoulders. Shen, her boyfriend walked beside her, gibbering on about some meaningless sports event or other, probably related to a team he hoped to join during college, assuming he could indeed get the scholarship he intended to. It wasn’t that she didn’t love him; it was just… after a while, all his talk of universities and football got old, especially when she was still wondering about Steven.
“I’m sorry, am I boring you?” Shen asked, brushing his hair, which he’d unexplainedly dyed a dark red a few months ago, out of his eyes.

She started. “Um… a little…” she confessed, knowing he probably wouldn’t be happy to know what she was really thinking about. He still was paranoid that someone more attractive than him would come along and steal her away. Guy had the self-esteem of a mouse-on a good day. Though she supposed that Steven was in theory attractive, on the days he wasn’t spattered in blood or being a psycho.

He apologized, and she assured him it was fine, she just had had a lot on her mind recently. He looked like he was about to ask another question, but the pulling up of a vehicle that looked like every sports car collector’s wet dream cut him off. The window was rolled down, and a familiar head popped out of it.

“Hey babe,” drawled Steven, in a very fake-sounding accent, “going my way?”

In all fairness, maybe she didn’t have to punch him quite as hard as she did.

Shen looked with concern at Steven, who was holding his nose to staunch the blood flow, and for a second, she swore she saw a flicker of recognition in his eyes, but it passed too quickly for her to tell. “You ok?” When Steven nodded, he turned to Haileigh. “You two know each other?”

She snorted sarcastically. “Nope, I just walk around randomly punching guys who stick their heads out of car windows.”

Despite her jovial tone, or perhaps because of it, he glanced suspiciously at Steven. “How, exactly, do you know each other?”

Sighing inwardly at his excessive paranoia, she replied, “He’s a friend. He was one of the doctors who treated me after my accident.” Her friends and her mother had thankfully accepted the story about the junkie driver, and why shouldn’t they? Whoever Steven was, he was very well connected, as a full accident, police, and medical report had been archived, and a man (who may never have existed) had been identified from the “burning wreckage”.

Shen relaxed visibly at this. “Ah. Ok.” Turning to the shifter in question, he asked, “So… I don’t mean to sound rude, but what exactly are you doing here?”

Steven removed his hand from his nose to answer in a mostly normal voice, “Haileigh is scheduled for a check-up today to assess the state of her health, mental and physical, as this is two months after her accident. Routine stuff, nothing to be concerned about. She asked me to drive her, as her car is under repairs.”

Shen looked to her, and she nodded, wondering how he knew about her car. “Sorry I forgot to tell you. I’ll be home by six, if you want to swing by.” She kissed him and walked over to the passenger’s seat.

“Kay then. You’d better be on time. And you,” Shen said, addressing Steven, “keep your hands to yourself.”

Steven saluted. “Heard and understood, captain. She shall return to you touch-free.” Then he drove away, leaving Shen staring forlornly after them.

“That was mean.” Haileigh rebuked, “He’s very worried about other men stealing me. And then you come along in a ride this classy… he’s probably not going to be happy.”

Steven shrugged. “It’s the only car I own. You can apologize later.”

She sighed. “Still, does it have to be this fancy?”

“When your jobs are assassin and neurosurgeon, you can afford just about anything, so why not make it an extremely functional vehicle that looks good as well?”

“I swear your car is more expensive than my house. Anyway, where are we headed?”

“Nowhere in particular. I thought I should check you over, see how you were doing, and explain a few things you’ve probably been wondering about for a while. No touching, as… whoever that man was… said.”

“My boyfriend, Shen Rythar.” She supplied. She noticed Steven had suddenly tensed up abruptly when she had said Shen’s last name. “What? Is there a problem with him?”

He shook his head. “It’s nothing. His name just reminded me of someone. Anyway, what do you want to know?”

She though for a moment. “What are you?”

“I’m a Shifter, class three, designation Reaper.” He said unhelpfully. Seeing her blank stare, he clarified, “I can separate my mind or, as some have theorized, my soul, from my body and use it to manipulate certain other people, like you. That’s a full. I can also simply separate a piece and use it to speak directly into your head, which is a half.”

She looked thoughtful, understanding a bit better but not completely getting everything. “What separates the posessable from those you can’t influence? And what do your class and designation mean?”

“No one quite understands the difference between the two types of souls, but though training seems to help, all sorts of factors can apply. Willingness to let others in seems to be a key one. As for my class or category, that’s just what generation I am. Three’s are considered to be the strongest of all the classes, though we’re prone to be rebellious and are subject to a whole host of mental complexes, as is clearly evidenced by me.” He stated ruefully. “My designation is what subgenre I belong to, of which there are three: standard, executioners, which are trained in the delicate art of instructing the brain to stop the organs from working, and reapers, my class. We’re trained to be much more physically able as well as how to override the brain’s natural safety limits placed on the muscles to keep them from quickly degenerating by overuse, so we can temporarily draw upon immense reserves of strength, though doing so can easily result in ripped, torn, or permanently unusable muscles.”

She grunted, sort of understanding, but she decided there was a more important question to be asked. “Um… if it’s not a sensitive subject… on that day two weeks ago…”

He sighed. “One of the results of whatever the government bastards did to me that gave me my abilities was a pretty bad case of some unique kind of multiple personality disorder only shifters seem to be afflicted with. The training program didn’t exactly help either. I have medication that normally helps, but I apparently didn’t take enough that day. I’ve regretted that oversight for the last two weeks.” He rubbed his arms, his face screwing up in pain. “He broke the third lock on my muscles, rendering my arms useless. I haven’t been able to leave my house for the last week and a half, and they’re still sore enough to make them nearly unusable.”

She nodded. “One more question: How tough is your training program?”

He grimaced. “Absolutely brutal. We had to be doing it every day since we were four. So no, no one can become a shifter if they aren’t born one. Not that anyone would want to go through that hell. At least once a month after you hit ten, they shot you several times in order to build up your pain tolerance.”

She shuddered. “Ow.” There passed a short space in which neither said anything. “Thanks for opening up to me.” She finally added. “I don’t think I ever said it.”

He shrugged. “It’s nothing. Thank you as well.” He changed directions, pulling up in front of her house. He handed her a slip of paper. “Here. It’s a sheet stating your current health. As a doctor, I’m authorized to give this.”

She looked at him. “You didn’t even check me, though. Did you?”

He tapped his head. “Didn’t need to. You’re fine. I’ll try to call before I show up next time.”

She nodded, getting out of the car. “Kay. See you, Steven.”

He waved back. “See you, Haileigh.” As she walked up to her house, he muttered, in a much quieter voice, “Yes, I do believe we are going to be seeing each other again quite soon…”

One more breath, one more heartbeat, one less second to live, and one more memory…

3…

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Blood spattered the walls as she runs down the hallway, clutching her bleeding shoulder. Swearing profusely, she dashed round the corner and smashed her good elbow into the assassin’s face… or at least, she tried too, but the man, who she could now see had silverish-gray hair and, bizzarely, purple eyes, caught it and threw her past him, jabbing her in the spine with his own elbow. She gasped and fell to the ground, rolling twice and getting to her feet, too slow to avoid his fist aimed directly at her face. She back flipped, hooking her legs around his chest just below his arms and back hand springing to throw him down the hallway and out a window, breaking glass and setting off a car alarm as he smashed through the windshield of a conveniently placed abandoned vehicle three floors down. She grabbed her gun from where it had fallen and ran down the stairs, knowing full well that even a fall from that height probably wouldn’t kill him. Executioners were annoyingly resistant to physical damage.

“Careful,” the annoyingly persistent voice in her head unnecessarily added. “That guy’s absolutely nasty when he’s angry.”

“Thanks a ton for the useless advice, Red. Any other pearls of wisdom you have to impart?” she asked, retying her hair into the ponytail she’d had it in before the executioner sent her sprawling as she ran.

“French fries are tasty.”

“What? In what parallel universe does that make sense in?”

“This one. It’s just a bad time to mention it.”

Rolling her eyes, Haileigh refocused on the executioner. Sometimes, Steven could just be so unfathomably stupid…

She checked the car. No body, but there was enough of a blood trail to follow him. She swore again as a wave of pain emanated from her shoulder. There wasn’t much of an injury, just a graze really, but that didn’t stop it from hurting like a mother. She sucked it up and continued running after the rogue shifter.

“You know, this has been much more effective than any track or cross-country program I’ve ever participated in. Running for your life really makes you serious about getting and staying in shape.” She thought, in between breaths and checking for the runaway.

“I’ve been thinking of opening a summer camp based around that principle.”

Their conversation was rudely interrupted by said runaway jumping from the third floor and miserably failing to judge the distance between them, resulting in him hitting the ground with a sickening crunch that, upon closer observation, had come from a bag of chips in his pocket, though the man was dead, apparently from a spontaneous heart attack. Not surprising, considering the chips had the label “NOW WITH 50% MORE DELICIOUS ARTERIE CLOGGING FAT!”

“Who would eat this stuff?” she wondered. “For that matter, why does he carry it in his pockets?”

“Doesn’t matter. Return to base so I can take a look at that shoulder.”

She grimaced. “No argument here, boss. “ Sometimes she wondered why she had agreed to help Steven with his job, which seemed to be policing other Shifters. She ended up getting injured a lot.

As she walked back, she failed to notice the man staring after her,

TWENTY MINUTES LATER…

“Ow…! That seriously hurts!”

“Would you rather get it infected?” Steven asked, continuing to apply the disinfectant to the wound.

“I suppose, if you put it that way…”

“There.” He said, applying a bandage. “Call me if it starts hurting again. You need me to drive you home?”

“Nah. I can drive myself, assuming you’ll ever let go of the precious steering wheel.”

“I seriously have trouble letting you drive my car.”

“Aww, come on! You yourself said it could withstand driving over a land mine! Please!”

“Fine, whatever. But I want you firmly below the speed limit!”
ANOTHER TEN MINUTES PASS…

Haileigh got out of the car. “Thanks for the ride.”

Steven saluted. “Least I can do for a woman who’s willing to get shot for me.”

She smiled as he drove off, then another flash of pain shot outward from her shoulder chased it away as she opened the door and walked inside. What met her eyes was so foreign, so ridiculous, so…impossible, she had to stop for several minutes before she was able to fully comprehend it.

Shen sat on the couch, in the middle of a heavy make-out session with a brown haired woman sitting on his lap, a woman who, if she didn’t know better, she would swear seemed to have wings poking out of her t-shirt.

She just stood there, staring, until Shen saw her, and suddenly the atmosphere got very awkward and the tension could have been cut and used as building blocks in a skyscraper.

“Oh… um… hello, Haileigh. “

The woman stood up, wiping spit from her mouth and looking in horror at Haileigh.

“Oh, s***.” She swore. Turning to Shen, she practically yelled, “We’ve known each other this long and you failed to tell me you had a girlfriend! I trusted you Five! I knew what you were like and I decided to trust you anyway, and you still cheated! You complete asswipe!” Turning back to Haileigh, she began apologizing profusely. “I’m so sorry, I never knew, it’s all my fault I should have asked around....”

“No.” Haileigh interrupted. “It’s his fault. You should probably leave. What comes after this probably won’t be pretty.”


The woman nodded and wisely left, leaving Haileigh and Shen alone.

“Look,” Shen started, but Haileigh cut him off.

“I don’t want to hear it. Save your stupid excuses. I’m having an extremely bad day, as I just chased a crazed maniac around the city for several hours and then got shot, and then I come home to find you in the arms of another woman, and then you expect me to listen to you?”

“Just hear me out Haileigh. It’s not like you’ve been perfectly loyal either. I know about Seven.”

“You know? You know?” Haileigh spluttered; rage distorting her words, “You know nothing! We work together, that’s it! It was because of you I never went beyond that! You’re the one who was cheating! The way she was talking, you two were dating long before we even met each other!”

He relented, “Ok, I guess you’re right, but…”

She wasn’t having it. “Just shut up. Shut up, and never let me hear from you again! Drop dead, for all I care!” she ran to her room, grabbing the bag she always kept in case something like this happen, and she would be unable to return to the house. Then she brushed past Shen, shoving him perhaps a bit too hard on her way out the door. She went for her cell phone to call Steven, but he was already there. He opened the door.

“Whatever happened, I’m extremely sorry. Need a lift?”

She had never been happier to see him.
TWENTY MINUTES OF UNCOMFORTABLE SILENCE LATER…
They pulled up to Steven’s house, which was probably way too big for just him, but he claimed he had guests over a lot, though she had never personally seen any. They got out, and Haileigh managed the impressive feat of making it all the way into the living room before she broke down in tears. He was at her side in an instant, helping her into one of the chairs.
“Do you want to talk about it, or should I just leave you alone?”
She cried uncontrollably for a while before answering, in a voice shaky with emotion, “If you’re willing to listen, I’ll talk. It’s my boyfriend, Shen… he was with another girl… he thought we were seeing each other, and so he figured… if it was ok for us, it was ok for him, but we weren’t, and now he’s gone, and… I just don’t know what to do!” she broke down crying again.
“How long had you guys been dating?” Steven asked, in a gentle voice.
“A year and a half.” She choked out between tears. “He was my first. I guess I just didn’t see anyone else as the one like I saw him. And now look at us… it says something about my terrible taste in men, doesn’t it?”
He pulled her into a hug, and she didn’t resist, simply stayed there and cried into his shirt. “ It’s not your fault. You’re not going to understand this, but I know him pretty well, and what happened was just in his nature.” Changing tones, he whispered, “I’m going to make you a promise. I will not leave you until you want me too. Alright?”
She nodded, too distraught to do anything else.
Eventually, she stopped crying and gently extricated herself from Steven’s arms.
“You gonna be ok?” he asked.
She nodded. “Eventually.”


He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, squeezed gently, and left her be, sensing her need to be alone for a little while. He went to the spare room, tidying it up for Haileigh’s use. As he was just finishing, his cell phone rang.

“Steven speaking.’

“Seven. Good to hear you’re still alive.” The man on the other end of the line said, in a voice deep enough to shake the cosmos.

Steven smiled. “Hey, Nine. Something wrong?”

“Well… two things, really. The first is that Two wanted to tell Haileigh, or whatever Five’s girlfriend’s name was, that she’s really sorry about what happened today and she’ll do everything in her power to avoid him in the future.”

“Duly noted. And the other?”

“You’ve got a class five in there with you. Be extremely careful. You’re not invincible.”

Steven uttered a few choice words, most of them four-letter. “How long have you known?”

“Earlier today, a body was found. Perfectly normal except for one thing: signs indicated they had died of fright. The heart had given out and the body had clearly been in immense stress right before it did. I don’t know any other than can kill like that.”

“Of course… I should have seen! Earlier today, an executioner we were hunting tried to jump from a window onto Thirteen, but he misjudged his jump and hit the concrete. Upon closer inspection, though, his heart seemed to have stopped beating a little while earlier. That’s what caused it to miss! It jumped in panic and had the heart attack mid-fall!” he swore again. “I should have seen it!”

Nine swore as well. “That means he knows you’re here! The executioner was a warning sign. Listen to me, Seven: I want you out of there. You’re too good of an operative to lose here. I’ll send in Four, Six, and Three. They can deal with it fine!”

Steven shook his head. “By that time, the Nightmare will have too many followers. They’ll be met with a sea of dangerous, frightened people, and I don’t care how bulletproof Three is, they’ll be torn apart! I have to deal with it now! Thirteen and I can handle it. If you’re really worried, send Two over. We could do with an eye in the sky.”

Nine sighed. “I’m not going to be able to convince you, am I? Fine. Two’s on her way. Just… be careful, alright? No matter what society thinks, if it comes down to it, you are more important than Thirteen, ok? You are irreplaceable, while she’s just another one of the human cattle.”

“Affirmative. Seven out.” Steven finished, managing not to sound as disturbed as he felt. Shade was a great man, but sometimes, he was just so… cold toward the rest of the world.

He reentered the living room to find Haileigh in the exact same place he had left her, sitting staring blankly at the wall. She jumped when he waved a hand in front of her face.

“Seriously, don’t do that!” she snapped, clearly angry at being disturbed.

“Sorry,” he apologized, “but the guest room’s ready, if you just need to sleep,”

She was about to make a nasty remark when she realized that he was only trying to be helpful and that she was exhausted, mentally and physically. “Thanks.” She remarked wearily. “Where is it?”

He pointed with his left hand, “Down the hall, third door on your left. I have to run a few errands, so if you need anything, just use it and leave me a note of what you used and how much. Except tissues or toilet paper. I don’t need to know that.”

She thanked him again, then walked down the hallway and collapsed into the bed. She was asleep in seconds.

Steven closed the door and walked to the front room, answering the door before Two had even knocked. She looked highly startled.

“Oh! Seven! I see you were expecting me.”

“Not really. You’re not exactly the quietest thinker ever.” He noticed he was using a tone far harsher than he needed to, and quickly remedied it. “Sorry I’m snapping at you. I’ve had a bit of a rough day.”

“It’s ok.” She replied. “I’m one of the reasons.”

He shrugged. “Not really. You know how Five is. I’m just surprised he’s managed to juggled both of you for this long. What’s it been, two years you two have been going? He’s such an asshole.”

“Yes.” She spat, “and all I want to do right now is rip his entrails out. But we have a job to do right now, so I’ll reserve vengeance for later.”

He smirked. “Let me know when. I’ll arrange the funeral for what little remains. Now come on. We have one of mankind’s darkest secrets to hunt down.”

She nodded, and they left, readying themselves for another battle with the reject monstrosities that humans had tired of and simply released into the general populace.

Two stood a few feet away from his bleeding body. She couldn’t bear being any closer. If only she had been a few seconds quicker, hadn’t hesitated, maybe he wouldn’t be lying on the concrete, watching the last moments of his life pump slowly away…
2…

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Haileigh woke to the sound of voices coming from the living room. She checked the clock and realized several hours had passed, as it was around ten at night. She rose, stretching, and listened to the voices. They seemed to be Steven and another person, a woman. They sounded worried.

“…and I’m telling you, this guy is too smart to hide anywhere like that! It’s too obvious!”

“That’s precisely why we should check it out! Why would we ever check there? It’s the perfect hiding place!”

Haileigh walked into the room, unseen by the two arguing people, who she could now see were Steven and the woman sitting across from him was… wait, what? She was the same one who she had caught with Shen earlier? What was going on?

Steven finally noticed her and turned to address her. “Ah, I see you’re up. Good to know. By the way, this is Two. Two, Haileigh.”

The woman seemed far too eager to meet her, in Haileigh’s opinion. “Hey!” she stated excitedly.

“What is she doing here?” Haileigh practically yelled at Steven. “Are you two in cahoots or something?”

Steven was quick to pacify her. “Relax, it’s nothing like that. We work together. And on that note, we have much bigger problems than your relationship rivalries. I’m sorry for being insensitive, but this is much bigger than us. Any of us.”

Something in Steven’s voice cause Haileigh to shut up and tolerate Two, or whatever her name was. “What’s the issue?”

Steven sighed. “There’s something I didn’t tell you about Shifters. A category I left out, actually.” Seeing she was about to start yelling at him for keeping secrets, he quickly cut her off. “Understand that it wasn’t because I wanted to keep it a secret. I didn’t tell you because there should be no reason for you to know. This type is extremely rare. In fact, I was sure we had eliminated them all, so there was no reason to worry you unnecessarily. And…I was hoping you would never have to face a Nightmare.”

Haileigh paled. If these things scared Steven, they were very, very bad. Clearing her throat, she asked the question she had a feeling she would rather not know the answer to: “So… what exactly is a Nightmare?”

“A Nightmare,” Steven slowly explained, “is a fifth gen Shifter. They are trained in all the arts third and fourth gens are, but with one other ability: they control the fear of others. They can literally scare you to death. Even other Shifters stand no chance. That’s what killed the executioner earlier today.”

Haileigh swallowed. This didn’t seem like the kind of person she would like to meet. “And… you don’t know where this person is or who they are?”

Steven ruefully shook his head. “No. That’s why I asked Two to help.”

Haileigh was getting tired of this code name business. “Two questions: One- what’s her actual name, and Two- why is she assigned to this team, if you can call it that?

Steven looked like he was about to give another of his vague, unhelpful answers, but Two chimed in before he could answer.

“Call me Angela,” she supplied perkily, which really annoyed Haileigh because she was still in the process of fully awakening. “I’m here because Steven thought you could use an eye in the sky when hunting this guy down.”

“You’re a chopper pilot?” Haileigh asked, inquisitive in spite of herself.

Angela laughed. “Oh, no. I don’t need a chopper.” She replied, shedding her jacket and unfolding from her back massive brownish wings spattered with white flecks.

Haileigh was rendered speechless by this sudden revelation. Finally, she stuttered out, “Um… your wings go well with your hair.”

“Thanks.” Turning to Steven, Angela remarked, “She’s taking this remarkably well, I must say.”

Steven shrugged. “She’s a Sterrin. That says it all. Anyway, it’s unimportant. Haileigh, you don’t need to know who you’re related to or why she has wings, just that that’s how it is. It would take too long to explain. What is important is that we have a Nightmare to catch, and starting tomorrow, there isn’t going to be a single place he can hide.”

“And when we find him or her?”

Steven’s eyes showed how serious he was. “We take them down. Nightmares aren’t invincible, and they have to be giving they’re undivided attention to someone in order to kill them, because it needs to know their fears.”

Angela and Haileigh both nodded in agreement.

“Good. Now get some sleep. You’re going to need it.” Steven finished, and Haileigh returned to her room, a sense of dread haunting her dreams as well as her waking hours.

The last day, and possibly his last breath…

1…

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Haileigh poured through the police database, checking for a pattern in the strange deaths and riots. Steven was searching through the mind of the city for disturbances while Angela flew overhead, looking for large groups of running people, but despite having looked for hours, none of them had found anything, so unless they made a major move or Haileigh figured out the pattern soon, this guy might get away.


She heard a rough “THUMP” from the deck and knew Angela had landed to make her report and, more than likely, to get a snack. Apparently, flying really took it out of a person. Not really all that surprising, actually.

“How goes your end?” Angela asked, walking in.

Haileigh shook her head. “Not all that well. Even with the clearance Steven got me, most of these cases are relegated to simple heart attacks, so there’s not much to see.”

Angela sighed. She looked like she was about to say something when Steven burst into the room. He didn’t look happy.

“Found them.” was all he said. It was all he needed to say. Both women nodded and ran to the car, Steven following quickly behind, though he stopped to grab a suspicious-looking duffle bag.

“Where is he?”

“Clock tower. They sent an invitation.”

Haileigh shrugged. “Explains why you don’t like this. We’re on his terms.”

Steven shook his head. “She. It’s a girl.” Seeing the look on Haileigh and Angela’s faces he retorted, “What? There are female Shifters too, you know.”

Angela coughed nervously. “Well, it’s just that… I’ve always assumed the Shifters were kind of… asexual, you know?”

Steven gave her a look that suggested he was going to nominate her for the “Idiot of the Year” award.

Haileigh interrupted their staring match to ask, “So… what exactly are her terms?”

“Standard Shifter terms: one Shifter, one Puppet, one backup. First Shifter to go down loses. Though I don’t expect her to follow through.”

“So… weapons? Any rules on that?”

He gestured to the bag. “Take your pick. The Desert Eagle, PSG1, and Sorrowshard are mine.”

She opened the bag to reveal an impressive amount of guns, swords, explosives, and, yes, a rocket launcher, which she assumed was Sorrowshard, until Angela grabbed it, along with a P90 and several throwing knives.

“Oh, goody, you remembered my favorites!” she squealed, hugging them to her chest. Haileigh really wondered about her at times…

She grabbed a few simple things: a silenced G18, a few grenades, a katana-more for looks than practicality, and an SCAR, all weapons she had trained in the use of with Steven. She decided this would be a bad time to try out new weapons.

They stopped in front of the tower, and Steven retrieved his own guns. Sorrowshard turned out to be a large sword with a nine-pointed star at the point, dyed with red and black flames.

At Steven’s insistence, they took the stairs. “I know too many ways an elevator can be rigged. Better to play it safe.”

Fifteen floors, Haileigh though. That’s far too many floors for any structure you can’t take the elevator in. The top couldn’t come fast enough. Or at least that’s what she thought, right up to the point she remembered she was facing mankind’s collective nightmare at the top.

They climbed the last flight and paused before going through the door to catch their breath.

The scene they saw upon entering was enough to turn a war veteran’s stomach. Bodies littered the floor, clearly trampled to death in some kind of madcap rush for the exits. A few people cowered in the corners, too terrified to move. And in the center, covered in leather and blood, looking like a female god of death-complete with scythe and A.A. 12-, was the Nightmare.

“I see you made it.” She said, in a whisper that somehow filled the room. “I was worried you’d stood me up.”

“And disappoint a beautiful girl like you by letting her walk away alive and in one piece? Never.” Steven retorted lightheartedly. Then, almost faster than Haileigh’s eyes could follow, he drew Sorrowshard and rushed the Nightmare, attacking with an impossibly fast chain of blows that cut her A.A. 12 in half and she only barely managed to parry with her scythe

“My, my, so impatient.” She purred, not the least bit discouraged by the loss of her gun. “You should learn to enjoy yourself more in battle. Here, have some fun with these little friends of mine.”

Haileigh whipped her head around to see the people who had been in the corners emerge from them and start toward them, moving in a zombie like fashion. If zombies weren’t rotting and move very quickly. She had cut down half a dozen before she realized that these were normal people, and she couldn’t go all out on them. Assassins she understood, but the average Joe…

She found a quick way to end the problem. Jumping onto the shoulders of a nearby zombie, she used him to vault over the others. Grabbing a rafter of the low ceiling, she swung forward and smashed feet first into the Nightmare, knocking her over. She drew the katana from her back and plunged it down, but a desperate mental assault on the part of the Nightmare caused her to plunge the sword into her arm and not her chest or neck. It was enough, however. The Nightmare swore in pain grabbing her injured shoulder, and the zombies collapsed, mental and physical boundaries pushed to their limits. The Nightmare was now facing three to one odds with a wound that prevented her from using her full strength.


“You think you’ve won, don’t you?” she snarled, rage distorting her features. Something in her tone made Haileigh uneasy.

Suddenly and without warning, she closed her eyes and shifted, dropping to the floor. The zombies surged to their feet and ran toward them in a screaming mass. Haileigh stared in horror as the human tide rushed toward them. She closed her eyes, hoping it wouldn’t be very painful.

Her reverie was interrupted by the chatter of machine gun fire. She opened her eyes to a spray of blood and gore as Steven opened fire on the crowd, tearing them to pieces with a SAW he had produced from somewhere. He ran forward through the gloom, slashing the nightmare’s good arm off and lifting her off the ground by her throat, and in that moment Haileigh saw his eyes and knew she was seeing his other half. Much as she hated to do it, Haileigh raised her gun and pointed at Steven.

“Put her down and return Steven. She’s not a threat.” She knew if Steven didn’t come back, the other Steven wouldn’t be satisfied until he’d killed them all.

Slowly his hand lowered, and recognition crept back into his eyes. His hand released her throat for just a second, and that was all he nightmare needed. She laughed and closed her eyes again.


Steven shouted a warning, but Haileigh couldn’t hear it over the pulsing of blood in her ears. She turned slowly. She had been right. He was a monster.

Steven, or what she had once known as Steven, stood to her left, a hulking fanged monstrosity of a man that roared when it spoke. Inwardly she knew it was the nightmare, but it didn’t the deep-set wave of fear and disgust from rolling over her, and she knew she could never be free without killing him…

Somewhere inside her, the innocent little girl who had changed to become the monster she saw now in herself screamed as the one pulling her strings fired the gun at Steven.

Angela tried to push him out of the way, but she was too late. The bullet still found his chest.

Haileigh collapsed, now in control of her body once more, gasping and crying at the horror of what she had just done. She slowly got to her feet and stumbled over to him.

He coughed, blood spattering his arm. “Ow…” he smiled weakly up at Haileigh. “No matter how many times this happens… it still hurts…”

She was sobbing now, overcome by guilt and sorrow. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I never meant to do that, I’m sorry…”

He cut her off. “It’s ok. You didn’t pull the trigger. Guess… it was bound… to happen… someday…” he panted out; working against the pain in a way that made it clear every breath was painful. “Now… if it isn’t too much to ask…” he handed her his Desert Eagle, “finish this.”

Haileigh stood, tears streaming from her eyes, to stare at the Nightmare, who was laughing madly. “I win!” she practically screamed, “I win and you lose!”

Haileigh raised the gun. The Nightmare just laughed.

“You can’t kill me!” she shouted in defiance, “I won by official Shifter rules!”

“Oh really?” Haileigh asked, in a voice that would make a hydra back down, “I seem to remember you used a lot more than one puppet and an extra. Not that it matters. Technically, I’m human, which means I don’t have to abide by your highly flexible code of honor.”

Just for a second, the Nightmares eyes showed fear, a memory Haileigh would cherish for years to come as the day she gave a Nightmare nightmares. Then she was firing, again and again and again, until the Shifter was reduced to so much bloody meat on the floor. She ran back over to Steven, sliding his gun back into his limp hand. His breathing was getting shallower.

“Now I can see… why you interested me…” he choked out, “When you’re angry… you’re even more of a force to reckon with… than me…”

Haileigh clutched his gun hand, holding it with both of hers. “Please don’t go! Please!”

He smiled ruefully, “Don’t really have a choice. Can I… make one request… of you?”

At that moment, she would have agreed to anything.

He turned his head to Angela, who was standing a short distance away, also crying. “You take care of her… alright?”

She nodded, too overcome by grief to do anything else.

“And Haileigh,” he finished, looking up at her with eyes filled with regret and affection, “don’t blame yourself. If I don’t blame you… you shouldn’t either.” Then his head fell to the pavement, and he just focused on breathing.

He lies there, dying, and somehow he knows this is his last second. He reaches up his hand and touches the girl’s face, somehow saddened more at leaving her than the rest of the world. Perhaps because she was like him. Thinking back… he’s glad he met her. Then his vision fades to black, and the last thing he sees is the face of the girl stained with his bloody fingerprints.

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