Amanda Seyfried - Little Red Riding Hood

It was a sickening feeling, sitting in the bar I had seen just months earlier with my makeshift family. Sometimes it seemed like a fantasy, like they had never existed, like my life had never changed from its dreary, monotonous march into something wild and worthy. Nothing but the memories and pain remained now. It seemed like I was back to the start, alone and dissatisfied with anger always boiling just below my surface, threatening to burn me if I didn't keep it under control. But everything was different now though, I knew that much. I knew what was out there now, I just had no way in, no way to be a part of what the world held for people like me. People like me.

The thought was ridiculous and sad at the same time. There was no one like me out there, no one like me who wasn't something to fear, to hate, the thing of nightmares. I was sure I would be one day too, but I would fight it until then. It just made me even angrier to know I was still an outcast, still alone, even in this new world I had found, to know there was no place for me, still.

I rubbed my hands along the polished table, letting my nails glide over the dark wood as I stared into the drink before me. It didn't taste right. Everything was sour now, and it was that much worse because I hadn't chosen it, I hadn't chosen anything. Everything was out of my control. My family was gone, abandoned me like trash, my Pair was a fake, my own nature wasn't even mine to control. I was lost, everything was. My worst fear had come true, I had lost control. Sitting there, being so close to a place I only knew because of the Clan, made it all come rushing back, the loss of control, the dismay, the abandonment, the anger, fury. Sitting there in that bar made the same thoughts run through my mind as the first night, a constant mental loop, getting nowhere, but still running, still remembering.

My head snapped up as a man sat down across from me. I was in a small, secluded booth and the bar was far from full, but the man didn't seem to be sitting with me out of necessity. He stared at me blankly and for a moment I thought he must be drunk, though it was early on a weekday for that to be true, even in this back-woods area.

I studied the man in silence as he did the same to me. Even though his eyes were light, I couldn't get a pair of dark ones from my mind. And even though this man's were nothing like the midnight blue that were seared into my brain, the way he was watching me reminded me of how my Pair sometimes had, with something behind his eyes that I couldn't quite grasp. He haunted me every moment, awake or asleep. He was always there in my mind, appearing and disappearing in just as frustrating a fashion as he always had, an arrogant smile pulling at one corner of his lips, an amused look in his dark eyes, like he knew I was still thinking of him, unable to drive him out. I forcibly pushed the memory from my mind, fighting the cringe that often came with thoughts of him and instead focused on the intruder before me.

He was old, not the kind I was used to seeing in the city, but a weathered old, like a farmer. His white hair stood out at gravity-defying angles that left a starburst shadow on the table and made his skin look even tanner, with deep wrinkles separating his face into sections. His eyes were sharp still, the intelligence far from gone, with light blue centers that looked watery, blindness inevitably in his future. He had a skinny frame, but still looked strong, like he knew what hard work was and had never met a load he couldn't shoulder. He had an odd grandfatherly feel to him, if in a slightly eccentric way, wise and bony like a frail, old owl. He reminded me of what I had always imagined a wizard to look like.

The whole time I studied him he just stared, a pleasant yet blank look on his face, it was unnerving. Who stares at strangers, especially when the eye contact was close to bordering two minutes? As a general rule in life I avoided eye contact with strangers. Looking at people invited conversation and that wasn't a goal of mine. I wasn't looking for friends, or even company, though Syn was my guilty pleasure in some ways. It frustrated me that I couldn't drag my eyes away from the old man. My stubbornness wouldn't allow me to be the first to initiate conversation with the intruder either though.

After another agonizingly awkward sixty seconds that felt ten times as long, I decided to ignore the man and stare down at my drink once more, taking a gulp before running my hands over the table's edge again. Close to ten minutes passed and I could still feel the old man's eyes on me, like his stare had some weight to it. I was used to stares, but not quite like his. I thought of simply getting up and leaving, not giving him the satisfaction of even a parting glance, but that seemed too much like defeat to me, a retreat.

Finally, I decided my apathetic approach wasn't working and moved to plan B; a scalding personality acidic enough to scare off even the most determined of bar patrons. I evened my eyes with his, narrowing them into slits as I tried to convey as much disdain as possible.

"What."

The man stayed silent for a few seconds, annoying me further.

"You looked lonely."

"I'm not."

I gritted my teeth as I hissed the lie out. The last thing I wanted was some old geezer trying to poke around my head. I had tried the social thing and where had it left me? Sitting alone in a bar, angry, depressed, lost and hating everything I had thought I loved.

Once you come with us, there's no going back.

The memory burned my mind and I had to look away from the man for a moment, fighting off the words that echoed in my mind. I never should have trusted him, that 'family' had just been a sick joke. It was a mistake to think I needed others, maybe for some things, for now, like Chi and the roof she provided me, but I was done with friendship and family along with everything else that world had to offer. Chi and her Clan were just a way station. I would never get so tangled up with another group. I would never trust another Clan like I had my first. I had been so naive, so wide-eyed and trusting.

"Lying to an old man? That just seems rude."

The man raised an eyebrow as amusement sparked in his eyes, but I wasn't looking to play any games.

"I'm a rude person."

"Oh, dear child, you seem much more complex than merely 'rude'. People label themselves far too easily nowadays. You aren't one thing, or another, but a whole heap of things. That's the beauty of people."

He was smiling now, revealing old man teeth, the kind that aren't white, but aren't yellow either, just...old.

"From my experience, people are one thing or the other; good or bad...though I'm yet to find a truly good one."

I muttered the last part but as soon as I did I regretted it. Nothing invited conversation quite like actually conversing. I bit down on my teeth as I avoided the man's surprised look. His eyebrows shot up impossibly far and I could almost hear his thoughts. Now we're getting somewhere.

"You can't believe that, not really. Everyone's a mixed bag. You aren't good, you aren't bad-"

My eyes pierced the man at this.

"Please, tell me more about who I am, wizard, I'd love to hear. Read my palm while you're at it. Tell me more about my nature, my past, my future."

My words came out sharp and mocking as a snarl formed on my lips, but the man merely smiled and leaned back into the cushy maroon booth, the tight leather creaking at the new weight.

"Wizard...well, that's a new one. And I can tell a lot about you actually, because some things are universal. I can tell that you are not good, for everyone's done evil. I can tell you that you are not bad, for everyone's done good, too. There's good in the worst of us, bad in the best of us. You can't believe there's only black and white, that makes life much too simple."

"I believe there's black, I know, I've seen it. I'm undecided on the rest."

My voice was softer now, as I remembered the good I thought I had seen in my family, in my partner, but where was that good now? Where was my family now? They had judged me and judged me guilty and now they were gone. And maybe they were right to. I had been tricked by my own Pair and now I knew what he had warned me of, what he had meant. There was nothing good in people like him, like us.

"If you do one good thing, you aren't all darkness. If you do one bad thing, you're no longer all light. All of us are varying shades of grey, even the worst of us, even the best of us. What has possibly made you so cynical in your short years, child?"

His voice sounded sympathetic, but I didn't want his sympathy, I didn't want anything he could give me. I stared at the man again, wishing he would leave me alone to drown in my anger and beer.

"Life," I spat the word out. "And what makes you so sure there's good? What happened to you to make you believe in humanity so much?" I threw his question back at him.

"Life," He replied with a small, knowing smile.

I left the bar with the man's smile still in my mind, it hadn't been mocking or arrogant, not a smirk, nothing mean or hard at the edges. It had been a long time since I had seen a smile like that, one open and honest, wise, but not in a sly way, not mischievous. It left me feeling strange, with a calmness covering me like a blanket, like the gentle snow that had begun to drift down from the clouds. I felt a brittle peace, at least on the surface. My mind wasn't reeling and even the looks of the few passerbys didn't leave me feeling paranoid or hostile.

I thought of returning to the warehouse, but I didn't want to go back to Chimarah and her brothers yet. I didn't want to see the questions in Syn's eyes. I didn't want to see the disappointment in them when I went to my room instead of over to talk with him in our special way.

It was a beautiful evening anyway, the wind had died down to just a slight ruffle in the air, letting the snow float lazily down. The sky darkened early now and I wanted to watch the stars as they appeared. It had been so long since I had looked at the stars, really looked at them. I felt like maybe tonight I would be able to appreciate their beauty, maybe even appreciate the dark canvas they were set in. I hoped so at least. I walked away from the city's lights, not wanting them to blot out the sky's glitter as they shyly peeked out from behind the semi-transparent clouds.

Soon I was in the woods, following what could have been a loose trail as I stared up at the sky. I hadn't felt so calm, so at peace, in months. I was able to look at the sky and see the midnight blue that used to make my throat tighten and actually enjoy the color, the beauty in it. I ambled along, probably looking drunk if anyone had been there to see me. My eyes up, my neck straining to see the sky and not the trees that tried to block it from me.

I walked for a long time, gradually feeling my calm wear off, gradually paying more attention to the world around me. And then I saw it, like the gates of Hell rearing up in front of me, and I knew why my calm had fled. I found myself staring down a narrow driveway winding back into private woods, a driveway most people would miss, a driveway meant to be easily missed. Yet there I was, staring from across the road to where it had all begun.

I knew no one would be there. The house would be abandoned, like they had never lived there at all, like I had never lived there. The windows would be boarded up, doors locked, looking haunted and dead, like a horror movie waiting to begin. It was just the bones of a home now, just the remains. The grandeur would look cold instead of beautiful, the size unapproachable instead of magnificent. The stone and high windows would look like the vacant stare of a corpse, not the home I had spent the end of summer and a long fall in. I knew it would look that way because I had seen it, in my dream. I should have known I would end up visiting, should have known it hadn't just been a dream.

I walked into the trees, wanting to see it, needing to see it, just one more time in real life. My footsteps crunched over frozen snow, snow that hadn't been broken all winter long, the thick trees blocked out much of the sky, even though they were bare. I could have sworn I saw strange shadows out of the corner of my eye more than once, but I kept my gaze on the ground before me. I knew it was only my imagination, my mind playing tricks on me. I saw things a lot, things I couldn't explain, strange movements, strange feelings, but worrying about what wasn't there would do nothing for me.

Finally, I saw the trees begin to thin, gradually giving way to a large yard with enough open space to look like a park, the occasional shrub or stunted tree breaking up the white blanket. The house looked like it had in my dream, like a church in a forgotten part of town, given up on and left. I saw the front steps where Kael used to chain smoke when he was upset, a haze hanging in the air around him from his umpteenth cigarette. I saw the vaulted second-story window high above where Nevaeh spent most mornings, staring out as if waiting for something. Like she thought her parents would come back from the dead and return to their old home, the home four misfits inhabited, playing some strange version of house, or used to at least.

I quickly sat on the porch, ignoring the cold beneath me and dropped my head into my hands, my fingers twisting in my hair, afraid the next memory would be of him, my partner, my Pair. Kael and Nevaeh had been friends, or Kael had, but my Pair's betrayal would always be the one that hurt the most, his desertion was the one I was afraid to even think of. His heart was the one I wished would stop beating. His memories, his habits, those were the ones that slunk into my mind like a poison. I closed my eyes and tried to block out the thoughts, but it was impossible, he was everywhere.

A slight crinkle roused me from my mental torture, like the hardened top of the snow had been broken by someone's weight, or a leaf's brittle spine breaking. My head snapped up, adrenaline already in my veins, my Shift clawing to be released. My eyes scanned the yard quickly, a sweep to appraise any danger. Off in the corner of the yard, where the white rock garden was, something seemed to move, the shadow of a figure just disappearing around the trees, just into their shade. I knew it was my imagination, my paranoia which seemed to gain strength by the day, but I got up anyways. What harm could chasing phantoms do?

My chest tightened with every step toward the tall gates, and along with my sadness weighing me down my walk seemed to take ages, but I kept my course. Soon the sadness turned to anger, as usual, and I felt my fingers roll into fists at my sides, my jaw rigid and the subsequent headache already beginning to pound through me. I marched across the yard as quickly as I could, having to high-knee at times to avoid deeper drifts of snow. I passed through the bronze gates that separated the main yard from the garden's entrance without even sparing them a glance, ignoring how they seemed to glow in the night's pale light. I rounded the curve of the trees, getting a clear look at the gleaming white rocks standing starkly against the deep shadows and the areas where grass still sprung up defiantly through thin snow. And then my heart stopped.

There he was, his back to me, looking out at the little frozen pond in his scarily still way, completely unmoving like a statue. Dark boots, dark jeans, dark jacket, dark hair. My heart stuttered painfully, like it was trying to stop, to burst. I had to push my fist into my chest to try to ease the ache. Almost a full second went by, of shock or something else, before I felt murderous rage fill me. I hated him. My Shift ripped from its flesh cage and I was across the expanse separating us in moments. I knew he knew I was there, I had never been able to sneak up on him, his instincts were as good as the damned being he had descended from, but it didn't matter.

As soon as I was within reach I spun him around to face me, to face the one he had abandoned, tricked, the one who had been willing to forgive him of all his past if he had only been honest with me, if someone like him even could be. But then he turned and a half-gasped scream escaped my throat. The thing before me wasn't my Pair. It had the same lean build, same dark hair, even the same arrogant stance with its chin held a little too high, the head cocked slightly to one side, but its face was just a smooth plane of skin, like a mannequin or an old Amish doll.

I stepped back, pulling my hand away as if the replica had burned me, and then it began to shrink, to shrivel into itself like it was rotting, deteriorating from within. Soon, it fell to the ground as it continued to fold into itself, withering before my eyes, deflating in a frighteningly organic way. A hand laid itself lightly on my shoulder and I spun around, this time ready for a fight, my skin still crawling from the memory of the impostor and the disturbing 'death' I had just witnessed.

The old man from the bar stood before me, that same little smile on his face that I had carried with me in my mind, the one that had somehow stuck with me.

"Don't look so shocked, dear child, I simply had to be sure."

My heart was still pounding, despite his kind tone. Too shocked to speak, I simply stared, my hand still cocked, balled into a fist as if to strike. I suddenly felt embarrassed by my Shift and buried it before he spoke again.

"Oh, to be sure you were her, Mr. Darke's Pair, his partner from his Clan. I had my suspicions at the bar, but I needed a greater degree of certainty before I approached you. We've been waiting for you for a very long time."

He paused to see if I would be vocal, but my mind was still frozen, trying to comprehend what the old man could possibly mean.

"Well, I suppose you don't know then. Expected. And I presume you and Mr. Darke are at odds...or I'm sure he would be here with you." He said the last part more to himself, rubbing his fingers on his stubbled chin as his pale blue eyes searched the trees, as if he expected Gabriel to be standing amongst them. I understood the feeling.

"How long since you've had contact?"

The man returned his eyes to mine, a nearly eager look in them.

"Two months."

I replied numbly, though my mind corrected me immediately. Sixty-four days. I ignored the thought. He didn't need to know the exact count, in fact he didn't need to know anything. I shouldn't be telling him anything. I didn't even know who he was, whose side he was on. Hell, I didn't know whose side I was on anymore, or if I even had one. And the things he could do, the mimic of James, how he could just appear behind me, how he knew so much. More than who he was, what was he?

"Wizard."

The word slipped past my lips before I even knew what I was saying, but then the man's eyebrows shot up and a pleased look came to the creases at the corners of his eyes.