Those blue eyes haunt my dreams.

Except in my dreams they aren’t eyes. They’ve become two strange stones that I hold in my hands. They’re even pretty when they’re rocks. I hate that guy.

I trace my finger over the bright turquoise ring that zigzags around the dark center of the rock. The swirly ring looks like a slinky when you pull the ends together to make a circle. The center, or pupil, is a black hole and it’s darker than black. It’s like staring into the void and is unsettling.

This is also the first time I realize his eyes aren’t all blue. There’s the ring of turquoise and flecks of grey. In this ethereal light, I see the stones’ true colors. I’d liked them because they were just like my fathers’ were, but they weren’t. I was tricked.

But were his eyes why I trusted him to save me? Even after I’d been pulled along, my will not my own anymore, and dragged to my death? His eyes were a leash that became my noose. That Ginger Freak may have slashed my throat open, but Stupid Boy David is the reason I’m dead.

He pulled me along and that tug led me here, standing and holding these rocks in my clammy hands. Except to me they aren’t merely stones, they’re eyes. His eyes. The eyes that caused my death. The eyes that killed me.

Two stupid lying eyes that aren’t even blue the liars! I squeeze the stones, trying to crush them into dust. It doesn’t make any sense but somehow, I do.

I open my hands and I expect the dust to fly off into the air. But there is no air, no wind. No sign of movement. I’m not breathing, but it appears I don’t need to here, so I’m not panicking. I don’t even feel any instinct to breathe.

But is this it? The Afterlife. Granny said there would be hymns and Jesus. I don’t see no freaking Jesus.

I let the dust slip slowly from my fingers onto the ground and I decide I must be dreaming. And in my dream there is light, there is ground, and there were two stones that I crushed because I’m super strong for some reason.

Oh, and the ground is sand. I’m standing on a beach. Which is weird because I haven’t been to a beach since I was like four. Or five. I could have been six; my early years are a bit of a blur. When you move around as much as we did it’s hard to keep track of things.

Anyway, I’m in a strange place, with strange stones and water that doesn’t move. Shouldn’t there be waves or something? The beach would be cooler if there were waves. Right now, it’s just creepy and quiet and unnaturally still. But I guess you need wind to have waves.

“So… what do I do now?” I speak out loud, mostly to test if I can when there isn’t any air, and I can hear my own voice. That… goes against most science, but so have most of the things I’ve experienced today, so I’ll let it slide.

I slap my hands against my sides and look around for some distraction, but there isn’t much to see. There’s nothing but sand, me, and the dead water. What am I supposed to do?

“That depends on where you want to go.”

I scream and jump. Not this again. “Who’s there?” There’s nobody here. I’m not even going to ask why I can speak when I can’t breathe. Another realization, it doesn’t hurt to talk here. It didn’t in Limbo either, although I could breathe there. Weird. “Who are you, who’s there?”

“I’m me.”

“No seriously, who are you?”

“I am me.”

“Who the hell is ‘me?” I keep looking around, but I can’t see anyone else. Just myself and a deep, old, echoing voice named Me.

There is something special about the sound. It echoes outside and inside my mind in perfect time with each other. And it’s old without being gravelly, and there is something else too. There is something to this voice, a voice choosing to stay silent this time, which almost feels familiar. Even though I know I’ve never heard it before.

At least I think I haven’t.

“Okay then, where are you?”

“Here.”

“Now cut that out!” A large grey rock appears in my hand before I even think about looking for one. “This is all starting to seriously piss me off!” And I throw it into the ocean.

I’m going to say this now, I run, hike, play some soccer here and there, and enjoy some self defence classes now and then. I’m pretty strong, pretty fast, and my cardio is decent. But still, that rock flies through the air like it was shot out of a rocket and hits the water like a nuke.

That ain’t normal.

Ripples form, as well as bubbles, and I realize I’ve hit someone with my rock. Oops.

Apparently in my dreams I have really good instincts without knowing I have really good instincts. As well as super strength. I wasn’t even aiming for the guy. Well, not really aiming for the guy. Or girl. Can’t tell from the voice, it just sounds old. Like older than Granny and Nana combined level old, and they’re ancient.

A purely androgynous being walks out of the water. Its form gives me no answers either.

His, or her, flesh is a shiny, plastic looking, white, and they look about seven feet tall, so a good foot and a half taller than me. And most of society. They’re also bald and naked. Not that it really matters since the person has no obvious signs of gender anywhere. I mean, its shape is human, but where there should be, well, markers, there are none. Its chest bares no signs one way or the other and has no nipples. Its…abdominal area is smooth and the curve to the hips is subtle enough to be masculine or ‘sporty’ feminine.

I don’t even know why I feel awkward about them being nude, but I do. Even its face is neutral, with features that pass for human, but gender-wise could go either way.

Its expression is not so neutral.

“That wasn’t necessary.” The person, or thing, as I’m not totally convinced it’s supposed to be human, has a bump on its head like we’re in a cartoon. A baseball sized bump. This is just getting ridiculous. Even for a dream.

“Sorry, I uh, didn’t know someone was actually there.” I back away as the being reaches the shore and shakes water off itself like a dog.

“Mhm.” It’s frowning at me. The only part of it that isn’t grey is its eyes. Their eyes are a mutation of brown like mine, the same golden amber colour as mine. They’re exactly like mine. I can see the same specks of green mine have; in the same places I see them in the mirror. I get the shivers again.

The only reason I don’t outright accuse this thing of stealing my eyes is that 1: I can still see so that means they are, well what? I’ll go with copies. And 2: There’s something in the eyes that isn’t mine, something that isn’t visual. We’ll call it a feeling behind them. And this, whatever it is, makes me believe that if the eyes could talk the voice would sound as ancient as this thing’s voice does.

So, definitely not mine, but exact copies. That’s more enough to creep me out.

“I suppose I should be glad you have such good instincts.” His voice is very formal, not annoying posh-level formal, but he’s totally taken etiquette classes.

“Well, you were asking for it.” I fold my arms and frown back. No way is any of this craziness my fault. “What are you doing in my dream, anyways?”

“It’s my dream, too.”

My god, this thing’s voice is extremely unclear. “What do you mean ‘yours too?’”

The thing doesn’t answer, even though the bump on its head has faded.

I’m really frustrated now. “Where the hell am I?”

“This is our mind.”

“Ours? What do you mean by ours?”

It taps its chin like its thinking. I can’t stop staring at its too-much-like-mine eyes. I’ve never met another person with amber eyes as distinct as mine, even my mother’s is more subdued and copperier. It’s like looking at an alien version of me or something.

Ah, fuck, is this thing an alien? I really wish I had a name for this thing other than ‘thing.’

“It was yours, now it is ours.”

I just can’t with this shit today. Great, he’s fucking parasite. An invader. What kind of stupid parasite would infect a corpse, anyway?

“Why do you look so weird?” I clasp my hands over my mouth. Crap, I said that out loud. What if it kills me? Can I die in my dream?

“You haven’t formed me.” It tilts its head, examining me. “I am your new spirit.”

Oh I see, I see, new spirit, cool…

WHAT!?

Wait. Invader. Illegal Infiltrator…

“Uh, so that white spirit stringy thingy, was you?” Gods I don’t want to remember that moment at all.

The thing smiles. The inside of its mouth is completely smooth with no teeth, like it really is made of plastic. Like a mannequin.

“Then you do have some awareness, good, good.” It tries to come closer, but I keep the distance between us. I feel a pull towards this person. Similar, but less intense, to how I felt when I looked at Stupid Boy David, but at the same time I feel something pushing me away. A sort of subconscious warning. “Then you realize I am here to replace your soul.”

“Sorry, what? I thought you were a spirit.”

The thing frowns. “As I feared, you lack a proper education.”

“Hey now, that’s unfair. I’ll have you know I’m passing almost half of my classes right now.” I even studied for my Psych 100 quiz. Which I’m probably going to miss now. So that was a waste of perfectly good Netflix time. Greaaat.

“I meant about…” The thing sighs. “The Spirit, Shadow, and Soul are different. Souls can’t be replaced or recovered after death, but a new Spirit can replace it and allow the person to continue living. If the person is… special enough.”

“There’s shadows now too?”

“Yes. Now where is yours? Why don’t I sense it’s presence?”

“Probably because we’re in my mind and shadows would be… outside?” I point randomly around.

“No, your- your Shadow.”

“Yeah… I took art class in junior high, so I know how shadows work. As you can see, there’s no sun in here and-” Huh, just noticed that myself. Then where is the light coming from-

“No! Your Shadow, your-” This thing is agitated and takes a deep breath before continuing. “As you should already know, every Mutant has their Soul, Spirit, and Shadow. Souls belong only to sentient beings, but all living things have at least one spirit, always starting with one. And those sentient beings which have gone through the final evolution will have Shadows. You are a fully evolved being. At your age you should have had your Shadow for two years already. Don’t tell me you’re an orphan? What is the Spirit Council thinking leaving an orphan alone past the Transition year? I thought we’d moved past such an era!”

This thing is really riled up now but hold on, don’t you insult my mom! Only I’m allowed to do that!

“Whoa, I’m no orphan. My mom might be annoying sometimes but you don’t get to-”

Suddenly the thing is directly in front of me, and its hand is covering my face. There’s no way to pry it off because this thing’s skin is too smooth. My hands just slide off. And the shining whiteness of it is blinding up close. Even though realistically it’s blocking my face so shouldn’t it be dark? My dreams do not enjoy science.

At least I know the dream is mine, then.

“Not an orphan… you were tampered with… your mother too… and hidden… then returned… hm, so it was him. Yes, you were indeed the right choice.”

Eventually I get sick enough of it that I kick them where men would feel pain. This thing doesn’t seem to feel anything, but still releases me.

“What the FUCK were you-”

“I apologize. That was necessary.”

“It most certainly was not.” Completely, 100%, not necessary nope.

“Aren’t you curious?”

“About what? Why you’re crazy?”

“About who you are. What you are. Even if you’re still in denial I’m sure by now, at least subconsciously, you’ve realized that you’re not a regular human. Regular humans can’t just replace their souls with spirits, after all. Even normal Mutants can’t do that.”

“I…I guess.” I can’t think of anything else to say. I mean I died, went to limbo, came back, and now I’m in a weird dream where a freak is telling me I have an extra mind part like it happens all the time. Like I just grew an extra toe- no big deal.

I remember David and his Aussie friend saying how I’m not a regular person, someone, they said. There’s something inside you, they said. And Rodney seemed very confused about why I hadn’t gone through, what was it? The Changing? He called me a Lost One.

Oh. Oh god no.

This is the spirit I got from the Spirit Core thing in Limbo. Which means my soul really did pass on. Without a Soul can I even call myself human anymore? So what if I can keep on living, this emptiness will never go away, will it? That’s where my Soul was. That’s why it’s empty.

I don’t want it to be true. It can’t be…

I look around and there’s a big log nearby that wasn’t there before. I walk over to it and plop myself down. Isn’t the whole point of being separate from animals and Monsters and Daemons the fact that humans have souls? Even Beasts have Souls. This ocean might not have waves, but a tsunami of exhaustion has just hit me hard. Am I a monster now? What am I?

“A Shifter. A very special kind of Shifter. We’ll see if it stays that way. Just being a Mutant isn’t enough to be able to replace your soul willy-nilly, that’s not how it works.” He chuckles lightly. “To be honest I thought your kind had been wiped out in the Great War. You hid deep.”

I don’t even have the energy to ask why it can read my thoughts.

“Because I’m a part of you now.”

Wow okay. Invasive much?

But I don’t have the energy to stay angry. To think of it, I don’t have the right to be angry, either. If not for this guy, I’d be dead. I think I’m just gonna assume it’s a male.

“Spirits don’t have genders.”

Don’t care!

“But how can I be a Shifter? No, that’s impossible. Those two idiots must have done something to me, they mutated me!”

“No, Kara, they Awakened you. Quite a shoddy job, to be fair. But who cares so long as it worked, right?”

“…what? Awakened?”

“They brought to genesis what was already inside of you, lying dormant, until it was brought into the light.”

“I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

I do. But I don’t want to hear it. Please tell me this is joke. Please tell me anything else.

“Yes, you do.” The thing gives me a creepy smile. “You were never a Normal human, Kara. You were born a Shifter.”

“No! That’s impossible! Those fuckers infected me, they changed me! You can’t be born a Shifter without having Shifter parents, that’s basic genetics! I know my mom is my mom, just look at my eyes, how can you say I’m not my mom’s daughter? You have the same fucking eyes!”

“I never said she wasn’t. Both your parents are Shifters. Quite interesting ones, in fact. Your whole family is… very interesting. Your mother’s people should have died over a hundred years ago, and your father’s family should not be able to walk the mortal plane.”

“Dogshit, you’re bullshitting me. My mom is a nurse. The most interesting thing about her is that she genuinely likes cauliflower.”

“I’m sure she believes that just as much as you do. I see you didn’t mention anything about you fath-”

I cut him off. “Because I don’t talk about him. The most interesting thing about him is that he can disappear. And that’s not a Shifter thing, it’s a very common, ordinary, deadbeat dad thing.”

He chuckles again. Fuck you. “Are you seriously trying to tell me my mom doesn’t even know who she is?”

“Is it so difficult to believe? You didn’t know either. It’s easy to be unaware of who you are with doctored memories.”

“Doctored… memories?”

“Come on now, Kara. You’re a smart girl. How is it possible that someone who grew up here didn’t know anything? About who they are, what they are, where they are? You figured it out in less than a year.”

“They wiped her memories?”

A spark of anger erupts inside me. Deep inside. I push it down for now. But it does not extinguish.

“Not wiped so much as warped. Some were erased, yes. Hm, it seems to me more than one person was involved, at different time periods, too. Some work was done more delicately than others-”

“Who? Who did this to her?”

“Oh, I’m sure they’ll reveal themselves in due time. Should we really be focusing on your mother right now? You’re in a bit of a tricky situation yourself. Much more urgent.”

“Right.”

I’m suddenly dizzy. I’m a Shifter. My head is gonna split from this massive mind fuck.

“So… you were never talking about actual shadows…”

“No. Shadow is the term for specific type of Spirit that can become joined with a Shifter.”

My head is fuzzy. I don’t think I can handle much more information. I should probably ask for his name though, so I have something to call him.

“My name doesn’t translate well.”

“Well, does it translate a little?”

“No.”

“Then what should I call you?”

“Hah… you mortals are so obsessed with names and words. I think the last one called me Fintan, so just use that.”

“…Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Right. So, Finn for short.”

“No. Fintan”

Something in his voice makes me decide that Fintan is a really lovely name.

“Uh huh. Fintan hahaha... Oh, but you’re super old right? So…um, Mr. Fi-”

“For spirits age is not something that… To teach you the proper honorifics at this point would be… Just… just Fintan is fine.”

Ah, it seems he is defeated. Excellent. “Okay. Then, why are you here? Like, in my dream I mean. Is this where you live now?”

“Our dream. And I’m here because you called me.”

“I didn’t call anyone, I’m asleep.”

“No, you’re dying.”

Why am I laughing? It’s true, I am dying, why is that hilarious to me?

“You asked what you’re supposed to do. What you’re supposed to do is choose.”

“Choose what? I still have no idea what’s going on!”

He sighs and looks at his feet, which are also smooth. No toes. Weird. “Your original soul and spirit are both gone. You have me now, to stabilize and anchor you, but your body is still fighting.”

All I can do is look at him. My soul is really gone. I know it is, but to hear it said so plainly…I really am dead. But that bastard said he could save me…

“He did. Sort of. It is possible for you to go on living, as I replace the soul. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a reason to walk the mortal soil. You came at a good time. And you’re quite lucky, not everyone can survive this gift with such ease. In fact, if not for your specific race, this attempt would have failed completely. Most Shifters would not survive to this point at all. Many, even if they make it through the Replacement, never fully recover. It was a risky move. However, your body has accepted me, while most try to fight me off like an infection.”

“Funny, this doesn’t feel easy.”

I’m gonna ignore the whole, ‘you came at a good time’ thing, now that I remember this guy’s technically an illegal infiltrator. He’s got to have his own agenda in this. But I don’t have the strength to worry about that right now.

“It still isn’t, and it still won’t be. There are more Tests to come. More Transitions. But with me you can continue on in this life.” He’s gotten close again, so I move further down the log. He notices. “Or… you can decide to move on to the next place, where your soul is waiting for you. That’s what he gave you, life and a choice. You can choose to die, too.”

I also ignore the bit about it being ‘a long time’ (like are we talking a decade or millennia here?) since he had a new human companion or whatever, like there’s a big soul bank I don’t know about just waiting for someone to die and make a withdrawal and focus on the relevant point. Because my mind really can’t deal with that level of complicated right now.

“Who would choose to die if they could live?”

“Your life won’t be the same, and you will…change, when you form me. And change again when you find your Shadow. Not to mention the interference of those two children have complicated matters further. You would have been given the option to come back even without them and their energies tainting you.” He shakes his head. “But there’s no way they knew that. It won’t be an easy life. It won’t be easy to stay alive. It’s up to you if you want to keep fighting or lay to rest.”

I sigh. “I don’t understand any of this.”

“I will grant you power outside the possibilities of your former, human life, fake as it was. But in exchange you will lose a part of what it means to be human. You can no longer be who you were. The life of a Shifter is different from that of a Normal human. And the life you will lead will be even more different still than that.”

“So…I’m not a Normal human anymore. Never was. Never can be again.”

“Correct.”

“If I didn’t want to be, if I chose to move on to that uh, next place thing, then wouldn’t you die too?”

“This form of mine would perish. And I would return to where I was. Then I would need to find a new host to help me.”

“Oh.” That last part seems kind of relevant. I probably shouldn’t keep pushing that aside. “Help you with what, exactly?”

Fintan doesn’t answer that. “While I would be able to return again with someone else, you would be gone forever, and you could be great in this new life. You’re a rare specimen. To be honest, I thought your race had died out. We all did. But this choice is yours, and only you can make it.”

I decide, while I have someone actually talking to me and explaining stuff, that I should ask about the whole cougar situation.

“The cougar… Ah, I see.” His voice suddenly sounds more guarded. “You shouldn’t talk about this cougar with anyone else. Shadows are tricky beings. Unlike pure Spirits like me, they’re closer to the Fae. When you’re stronger we can deal with it together and complete your Bonding. At the very least, it should leave you alone during your recovery.”

Wait, the cougar is a Shadow? Is it my Shadow? “But-”

And just when we were getting somewhere, this Fintan guy stands abruptly. “I have to leave.”

“What? Wait, you can’t just drop a bomb like this and go. I have more questions.”

“Another is coming, perhaps you can ask him. Well, be careful what you say. But I must be protected.”

“Whoa, whoa, another what? You mean something like another spirit?”

He laughs at me. “How many spirits do you think you’re worth? No, this is just an outsider.”

“An outsider? Who?”

He shrugs and starts walking back into the water. I chase after him, trying to grab a hold of him, but as soon as he is submerged, he’s gone. There’s nothing to hold on to. All I’m left with is an empty beach and his warning:

Don’t talk about the cougar with anyone else.