“We’d both really appreciate it if you stopped trying to kill yourself.” Seth grunted.

“Untie me!” She shrieked, wrestling against the ropes she woke up to Seth tying around her wrists. “What the hell are you two doing in my room? Why is there a bucket of flesh on my floor?!”

“Maybe stop trying to kill yourself and I will! And I swear to God if we have to do this song and dance every time you wake up—“

“It was a dream!” She hissed at him. It had to be. It had to be.

“More like a nightmare.” He muttered.

“Azriel!” She begged. They were just leaning against her dresser, eyes shut, fingers on their temples, eyes flickering quickly behind their lids.

“Something must have gone wrong with whoever brought you back.” Azriel muttered. “Zombies—God, my Fourteenth really hates that word—Sorry, moving on—are more or less a weird cousin of vampires. The memory issue happens when something goes wrong during a Change with them. But what’s with the kill switch…?” They made a noise of frustration, setting their hands down.

“Emi, do you know who could have brought you back?”

“I’m not dead! I’m alive!”

“Hey,” Seth snapped his fingers in front of her. “Got any siblings?”

“…no?”

“Mommy issues?”

Emi’s entire body flinched, and Seth nodded. “Daddy issues, got it. Same, anyways, Azzy, it’s probably her dad.”

Emi’s breaths were starting to become rapid, hyperventilating again. “No. No. I’m alive. I can remember. I can remember. My name is Emi, that’s what he named me—” she muttered between wheezing breaths, her head hanging over, hair in her face.

Seth glanced at Azriel. “Make that father figure.”

“She said something about her father being Japanese, right?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Japan’s in a whole other league when it comes to random Monsters. We think we only have a 50% read on the Yokai, and a good percentage of the Yokai we know of are things that spawn because of human interference.”

“Yeah, but she also said her mother was Turkish, I know they have a Volkodlak and Vampire problem, not to mention the fact that Prometheus is in that general area. All kinds of weird shit happens there.”

Emi started to shake and thrash in her bonds. “Let me go! Let me go!” She wasn’t even thinking anymore, only static filled her head, and the chant.

Tendons fraying/muscles rotting/organs gushing/nerves snapping

Ơ̷͙̋͛r̷͓͋̿̄͆͌͜͠ͅg̶̨̡̯̥̝̑̕͜a̶̛̗͖̱͉͉͖͐̾͂n̴̰͇͔̫͠s̵̪͚͙̃ͅ ̴̗́̅̐̎͑g̵̛̪̠̼̝̙̈́̉͝ȗ̶̖̙̃̓̂s̸̭̦̖̭̹͊̒ḥ̷̖͖̜̄͘͝͠i̶͙̰̱͚͗̀̒̓n̵̰͍̥̉͋́̾͒g̶̢̗͎͖͑͑́/̸̢̣̯̫̼̄̓͜ņ̵͐e̷͚̺͕͖͈̍̄͊́̄͒r̶̡̭̘̼̔́̂̄v̵̲͈͉̀̓̐̀ê̶̡͆s̸̹͕͕͔̈́͋̃̅͘s̴͖̩̮̗͂n̶͚̖̫̐͗͆a̴̧͖̦̥͆̏͘͝ṕ̶̩̠̰̪̰p̵̠̌̔̌̀̇̀i̵̛̩̦̚ñ̶̢̬͙̗g̵̟̭͛

“Eh, guess that answers that question.”

“Her father is still involved somehow.”

“So we’ve got a who.”

“I think she’s set off by keywords or actions.”

“Did you just figure that out? She tries to kill herself whenever we push too far.”

“I’m! Not! Dead!” She screamed, her throat tearing at the sudden force behind it. “I don’t kill myself, because I’m alive!”

“Try saying that real slowly and see if that’s something any normal person would say.” Seth gave her a mean smirk.

Azriel put her face in her hands. “She’s trying to prove to herself that she’s alive. Severe and select memory loss.”

“She thinks they’re all dreams.”

“…Emi, how old are you?”

Emi just bared her teeth at Azriel. Seth flicked the side of her face. “Answer the question.”

“I’m fifteen.” She hissed.

“Definitely not.” Seth refuted. “Autopsy said you’re somewhere between 17 and 21, like one would be when attending their

sen

ior year of high school

. You know, with us.”

“…I’m a sophomore.”

Azriel inhaled sharply. “She’s stuck in time. She’s forgetting everything that’s happening after she was fifteen except the stuff she needs to do. Like going to school. That’s when she died.”

kdk

/̸̢̢̧̺͈̭͓̮̝̼̖͓̟̹͈̺̙̩̤̳͈̗͙̻̺̼̼̬͖̱̝͍̞̥̂̊͜͜͜ͅt̸̩̎̂̊͗̀̿́̂̽̉́̊͆͒͐e̶͍̜̗̜̙̤̹̼̿̑̀̋̔͐͒̃͗̉̊͒̆͆̏̉̌͗̓̚̕͠͝ņ̴̨̨̨̨̮̗͕͕̞̗̱͇͕̠̜͕̻͔̰̮̙͓̠̬̠͚͖̱͍͕̗̭͇̑̅̈̐̀̈̑͒̒͋̈̋̇̾̂̈́̕͠͠ͅḑ̷̛̞͍̰͈̭͍̬̥͙̲̗̝͓͇̯̦̜̟̥̘̲̲̣̝̞̻̲͙͚̹͇͉̟̦͔͇̫̬͑̒̋̈̿̏̔̿̀̀͑͌̍̿̋̃̃̄̄̀̓͌̆̊̋̋͐̀́̽͆̿͘̕͘͜͜͠͝͝͝ò̴̢̢̨̳̳̱̱̭̣͖͉̼̤̗̻̭̲̦̘͙̹̜̹͙̭͖̪̯̱̮̥̻̙͓̼̫͍̏͊̍̍̅̐̐̊̆̏͊́̂̋͝͝ͅͅn̶̢̨̢̨̡̢͓̳̹̹̟̮̼͉̞̼̪͍̬͇̙̫̲̻̫̖͎̥̳̖̝̹͍̤̈́̎̊̎̍̐̔͒͊͆́̀̄͋̈́̉̔͋͛̌̓͗̆̏͂̇͐͛̀̿͋̿̌̒̾͑̕͜͝͝s̷̡̛̛̛̪̻̫̝̏́̓͋̓̅̈́̃̌̋͗͆̃̇͒̊̃́̊̄́͗͘͘͘͘͘͜͝͠s̶̡͎̝̻̮̤̳̳͙̣̝̩͖̩͖̞̗̠͖̱̙̝̹̩̣̥͈̈́̀̌ń̷̨̛̮̤̥̞̣̙̣̮͈̞͎̔́̈̿̉̇̉̈́͊̍̈́̈́̍̅͐͊̄̂͌́͆͂̅̅̅̄͗͊̀͊͛̐̎̑̚̕̚͝͝͝͝͝a̵̛̩̬͔̜̲̮̝͚͌͛̋̆̔̾̆̉͂̌̿̄͝͠p̵̨̡̨̢̛̛̝͙͕̟̳̪͇̝̞͈̣͍͓͔̩̥̺̫̪̳͍͍̮͔͕̬̺̥͇̝̖̼̤̺͈̲͋̎̄́̇̑̋̇̚͜͜͠͠ͅp̸̧̡̰͇̳̟͕̜̫̝͈͔͍͔̝͉̦͉̤͓̻͎̫̫̣͎͎̦͙͇̟̰̩̍̑͜͜i̶̧̧̡̞͔͔̫̪̣̣̦̙̖͈̱̤̤̙͉̣̹̬̳̙̓͐́̾̐͒̓̃̽̅́̈́̕ͅņ̵̡̨̩͓̭͎̫̫̤͈̠̹͉̳̤̲̟͉͖̞͔͎̫͚̮͒̒̽̊̅͋͋̍̓͋̓̓̓̇͌̈́͗̋̌̏̕͘ͅg̸̢̛̼̰̺̥̯̘̻̪̝̊͊͗̀̓͋̑̒͑́͂̌̀̏͜/̸̛̛̱̙̗̯̣̱̑̒͂̈́́̆͋͑̒̀̇̓͊̈́̏̒̔̍̀̄͐̑͂̀̈͛̓̎͌͋̐̅̕̚̕͘͝m̷̡̧̢̡̘̩̞͉͍̜̜̱̞̞̺̮̬̩̮̂ū̴̳̉́̋̿̋͑̚ş̵̡̨̢̥̝̦̥̜̪̖͖͇̟̤͎̻͚͕̭̫̘̭̱̝͔̺͖͉̝͉̀̓̀̍̊̃̐̐͂͌̇̄͐̄̇̽̂̚̚͜͜c̶̡̨̡̟̝̝̤̦͎̗̼̩̳̞͈̤̟̠̖̦͉̩͎̤̩͍̦͕̹̣͕̗̪͎̹̲̦͙͗̃̈́͛̓̈̆̆͂͌͋̈́̋̐̄̔̈́̍̀̚̚͜͝͠ͅl̶̛̘̣̳̺̼͙͓͍̱̎̂̌̊̊̈̈͐͠ͅę̴̨̧̧̡̨͇̝̗͉̫͔͓͖̭̞̝̺̳͖̞̦̮͔̹̥͓͚̯͓̖̺̺̹͚̰̘̜̼̙̩̳̜̇̈́͆̑̕͘̕͜͜͜͝͝ş̶̧̢̧̛̛̭͇̤̰̻̟̫̠̹̦̗̼̼̂̐̈́̓̒͘̕͘͠ͅř̶̨̨̨̘̤͉̲̞͖̘̘̞̞̲̗̗̮̤͇͇̫̖̩̎̄̋̎͆̐͒̊̈́͐̎͑̎͒̐̏̏̉͗͆̍͆̏̌̄̒̃̎͊̋͂̑͑͆́̈́̄̇͒̈́͘͘̚̚͜͜͠ơ̸̡̛̖͓̜̥̠͕͙͔̫̲̳͍̹̜̮̪̤̹̖͎͇̙̣̤̖̹͙̩̤̲̭̯͛̇͒̔̃̃̐̐̇̊̌̐͗̾̎̑̇̉̈́́̚͘͜͝͠͝͠ţ̶͕̙̝̭̌̏͛̃̒̕̚ţ̷͇͍̩̭͍̪̳͕̦̘̭̞̱̻̙̳̫̥̻͍̟͑̏̑̊̈̀̎̐̑͌́̉̍̉̚̕͠͝͝i̴̧̡̛̤̝̗̦̳̜̥̜̘̘͍̭̙̱̜̜͈͈̞͕͚̙̝̥͖̹͉͚͖͍̪̬̘̠͎͐̇̃́͗̔͒̀͊͂̅̉͂̓̎̍͆̓͋̊̕̕̕͘͜͝ͅͅn̸̡̛̰͖̼͕͙͍͖̜̰͓̖̪̟̗͚͙̪̳̰̭͙̱͛̓̊́̋̎̍̏́̂̊͛́̐̔̍͘͘͝͝g̴̡̢̛̩͉̒̓̔̀͊̋͑̋͋̇͘̕͠͝͝ͅ/̵̨̛͙̠̞̭̌͋̇̅̑͆̋̔̌͋̽͛̀̇̈́̊̾̑͗̚͝͠ọ̷̢̠͈̫̙͖̩̞̥̥̱̬̣͔͉͖͙̼͎̟̖̘͕̩̠͖̱̞̝̺͍͑̄̀̐͂͌͂͊́̓̈́͑̈́͒́̀̽̓̂̋̆̋̓͗̿̄͆͋͊̋́̊͐͗̓̾̇̾͐̕̚̚̕͘͠͝ͅͅř̷̢̢̛̺̯̜̺͙̲̝̜̘̘̝̮͈̗͚̙̠̞̤͉̦̜̤̬̺͔͙̩̝̝͚̺͍̟͇̀͛͆́̾̈́̀͆̈́́͑̄͑̑̽̋̆̄̈́͐͋̔͠g̵̢̨̨̖̠̗̱̮̞̬͚̬̟̤͖͈̞̻̜̻̥͔͖͑̍̌̀̾̒̔̉̓́̑̕͘͝ą̴̡̱͖̪̣̲̜̳͈̼̖̣̎̾̇͗̒̿̑͑̈́́̓̎̌̆̀̍̌́̿͋͐͗̏͒̂̉̏̎̈́̃̊̾͑̓̍̕͝͝͝ń̷̢̧̧̡̢̨̩̘̺̪͎͖͎̖͓̰̭̥͇̣͔̫̺̮͇̺̭͕͓̥͖͕̳̪̜͔͉͙͍̟̬̬̫͉̔̇̔̽̌́̈́̕̚͝s̵̨̠͚̙͔̥̼̺͈̭̞͚͕̟̙̮̟͕̺̺͋̀̎̀̕͝͠g̸̡̡̡̛̻̣͓̱̻̬͔̳͚̣̞̯̪̻͍̯̘̗͓̬̅̈́̃̅̽͛̈́͒͌͗̒̔̐̓̌́́̆̔̇̊̈́͆̏̋̔̑̄̀̃̀͆̀̽́͆̌̚̕͘̕͝͠͝ư̶̮͕̰̲̘̺̟͎͙͍̫̝͇̹̟̱͍͕̝͕̗̋̌̂͗̋̒͑̒̌̇̂̈́̈̒̓̿̇̍́̐͌̂̔̔́͘͜͝͝͠s̴̢̧̡̛̭̯͍̺̻̰͎̠̙̺͎͇̮̭͕̞͍̹͙̙̻̮̻͇̭̖͉̩͖͙̭̙̈̾̓͗̌̿̽̔͐̽͛́͒̃̆͐̀̀̔̎͊̀͌̋̅̊͐̚̚͝͝ḫ̷̡̢̢͍̟̖͈̟̳͔͍̬͚̠̖͕̥̹̜̠̪̭̮̫͈̻̞̊̇̄͜ͅi̸͎̭͎̻͉͓̬͍̺̔̀̃͗͒̃̃̍̀͆̾̌̎̈́̏̽̐̍̆͊͊̓̀̏̍̒̄̽̓̕͝n̴̢̢̨̛̬̩̺͖͍̣̱͈̘̝̖͖͚̼̤͎̘̹̹̦͇̳͌͐̿͌̿̌̊̒̈̾̍͊̊͗͒̈̆͊̇͋̅̏͋̈́̚̚ĝ̷̛̘̻̫̗̻̏̃͑̋̅̓̾̀̆̇̔͂̓̔̈͆̽͝/̵̧̛̯̬͉͉̘̲̩͉͓̮̫̤̺̣̱͇͙̤͇̗̰̪͕̻̼̬̟̦̱̉̑̑̔̂̈́͂̈́̅̈́̾͌͂́̏̂̄̈́͂͛̐͌̎̑̅̅̍̌͂̂͒̎̅̍̚̚͘̚͘͘͜͝͝͝͠ņ̷̨̨̧̡̦̞̻̮̫͈̩̯͍̲̞͙̗̠̫̮̫͕̼̼͇̳̰̮͚͇͈̫̈̿̏̀̒̋́̄̈͂̀͛͆̂̎̽̓͘͝͠͝͝͝͝͝ͅê̵̼̩̗̹̠̙̮̤͙̜̺͚̙̙̝̠̺̼̯̻̮̍̒͊̇͛̏̀̅́͛̐͛̅̐̐̑̂̔͛͆̉̽̑̎̾̔́͂̑̀͂̕̕̕͜͠͠͝ŗ̸̨̨̡̧̛̩̲̤̥̟̥̝͍͇̞͚̜̰̝͔̻̯̻͔̲̠̘̜̞̬̲̄͌̎͒͆̽̍̓͗̉̈́̿̌͐̾̍͆͐͐͆͆̍̀̽͋̽̿̉̅̂͛͌̂͘̕͘͜͝͝͝ͅv̵̢̡̼͉̝̪͇͕͕͈͍̮͉̹̬̱̮̬͓̩̹̙̞͍͎̓͜͜͜e̸͕͔̪͕̼͈͉̳̝̞̜̼̬̩̪͔̳̙̭̩̖̬̙͚͖͇̟͈̙̫͊̂̾̌̑͋̽̓͗̈́̀͜͝͝ͅͅş̵̢̖̟͖̱̣̤̫͉̭̪̬̻̲͎̻͇͙̻̻͉̦̬̪̝̜̠̤̞̟̪̤̣̖̟̽̓͒̒̓̈́̈́̅̔̓͜͜s̵̡̯̘͎̬̤̥̖̮̟͎͌̎̿̎̈̔̉̿̔̀̿̍̒̍͗̒͘͝n̸̨̛̛̜̣̭̪̮̹̠͙͍̭̲̯̘̯̪̟͈͈͔̫̲̝̥̰̼̞̱̲̺̲̝̲͙̞͔̿̍͒̃̉͑̈̎̋̅͂͆̓̑̎̋̉̀̅̇̒̇͒̈́̂̾͋͐͛̾̓̈́͌͛̄̾̚͘͠͝a̴̢̨̨̨̨̨̛̛̛̛̛̜̱͖̭͖̼̼̥͖͔̥͎͕̬̝̘̞̞͈̬̣͓̦̯̮̠̞̺͍̻̖̮͈̺̲͖̞̒̅̿̈̀͗̆̃́̉̓͆͊̐̈́̉̉͌̅̍̈́̾̚͜͝ͅͅp̶̨̧̧̛̭͙͚̦̦̪̯̠̖̦̻͚̗̜͉̲̩͚̭̪͙̰̙̞̰͖̹̝̋̇͆̂̄͋̍̈́́̈́̑̋͌̽̀͐̏̇̔̃̆͊̿̍͋̈̎͋͘͠͝ͅͅp̵̨̧̘͈̙̱̟̬̰̰̮̰͔̮̮̦̥͙̫̤͈͉̫̅͗͛̓͒̈́̀́̎̔̀̉̏̇͑̏̃̈́̂̀͑̔͘͜͝͝į̷̨̡̛̛̛͔̻̰͓̫̳͔͈͚͙͕̫̟͔̰̠̥̳͔̥͔͚͎̗̖͍̖̘̣̫͔̘̯̞̠͍͚̠̎̓̃̅̍̃͐͌͛̈́̄͊̄̇̌̽̈́̄̈́̅̏͒̓̓͛̏͋̍̑̀́̄̆͂̌͗̃̕̚̕̕̚͜͠͝n̷̢̨̡̨̗͉̺̯̤̙̻̫̳̙̘͎̺̫̳͍͔̺̣̻̦̥͓̹̣̖͔͓̙̹͖̺̩̗̼̯̺̆̌̀̐̑̈́̏̀̈́͆̂̅͛̌͗͒͊̓̈̍̏͌̉̚͠ͅg̶̨͙̹̺̪̰͇̜̰̩̮̩̦̳͍̥̯̭̦̤̳̩͙͕͙͚͍̫̿̆̍̐̽̀̽̃͛̆̉̀̆́͘͜͜͝

Fly Part 1

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