The woman stands before me, out stretching her long, spindly fingers. No—not a woman…not a woman at all. But something like it. She was obviously female, but not woman—not mortal. I shuddered as she floated closer to me. Fog puffed in front of me as I breathed—she was freezing. I took a step back, my fleeting crunching in the decaying leaves from her trail. I pulled my arms close to my chest, goosebumps rose on my skin and my hair prickled on my neck. I new other creatures, such as the monster in front of me, lived and resided in these lands, but I had never seen them in person and I certainly had not been this close to one. My father would never let me out of the palace again if he knew who—what—I had encountered this deep in the woods. My mouth went dry when she was floating only a mere few inches from me, gazing at me with her cloudy eyes. Her bony hand still outstretched, expectant, but patient. Her long, night-black hair billowed in waves past her waist and the white robe that covered her wrinkly, gray body blew softly in the silent breeze. Her face was perhaps the most disturbing. Her cheeks drooped, as if stuck against gravity and her lips left slightly parted to reveal knarled, rotting teeth. But her eyes haunted me most—the still, soulless orbs seemed to pick out the most wicked parts of my entire being. I shivered, still backing away, but found it useless when my back hit the rough bark of a moss tree. The being stopped and it seemed that the whole world around me did the same. Not a single bird sang or fluttered, the leaves above me did not dance, and the wind ceased to move. All was quiet. I took a breath in, but my heart skipped beats. “What—what do you want from me?” My voice came out shakier than I had intended, but there was no controlling the utter horror I felt inside me. Was this some nightmare? Was I crossing over to the next life? Was I already dead and this is the angle that was sent to guide me? She did not answer, so I asked a different question in hopes that she might find it worthy enough to answer. “Who are you?” I muttered. Silence. I narrowed my eyes, cautious of her quietude, “If I tell you who I am will you answer me?” “I know exactly who you are…” I startled at her voice. It sounded like one and hundreds of voices at one time, as if more than one creature possessed her. She pointed at me, not accusingly, but confrontational, “I know what you are, Leora Clementine.” My eyes widened and suddenly I felt like a child again. Vulnerable and alone with no one, but myself to find a way to survive. I watched as fog stirred behind the creature in front of me and then found her gaze once again, “What do you want from me?” I repeated, a but louder albeit. I refused to hunker into a confined ball of hopelessness and rot. I might as well get answers about my life now. She snickered at my attempt bravery, “You think yourself worthy of answers, princess?” She rasped. I frowned, “You know what I am thinking?” The fog behind her began to thicken and surround the two of us at our feet. She grinned, exposing all of her teeth, “I know all things.” She croaked out. She offered her hand to me again, “Come, girl. I have much to show you. And you might get the answers you are looking for.” Her voice echoed in the silent wood. The thick fog, which had now split down the middle to reveal an opening of darkness, beckoned me. I let out a shuttering breath, “About my life?” Her smile grew wider and she shook her head—hair reflecting in the one ray of sunlight that managed to shine through the dense trees—“No princess,” she leaned closer, “about your death.” My mouth parted and a thousand questions ran a muck in my head, but I said nothing. I only stood there, watching her peer at me with ethereal and unearthly grace. She awaited, her fingers signaled for me to take hold. I hesitated, unsure of what outcome going with her could bring me. I closed my eyes, contemplating, whether the answers I needed were worth the risks. But, my life was not as valuable as my countries. I inhaled the cold air through my nostrils and exhaled. I had no choice, but to do this. I opened my eyes once again—she still stood there patiently. Swiftly, before I changed my mind, I grabbed her hand. Surprisingly, it was soft to the touch as she wrapped her cold fingers around mine. Slowly, creepingly, she led me to the small opening of the fog and as if giving us permission, it widened and the darkness awakened.

February 25, 2008 Dear Diary, Callum decided it would be funny to bring us to the recently deceased Mrs. Lane’s house late on Sunday night. That was four days ago. Eudoria convinced the four of us that it was harmless and no one has set foot in that house, besides Mrs. Lane, when her husband went missing more than 5 years ago. She told us about the legend that shrouds the crumbling house in shadows on the way there. That’s who Eudoria was…a storyteller and a riddle creator that left anyone who questioned her attempting to figure out her schemes. In the beginning, I thought the whole thing a sham and even laughed at the thought of old Mr. Lane’s ghost haunting the place and coming out to kidnap those who dared trespass. I was convinced it was all a joke, that is, until I sat staring at the fading portrait hanging above the mantle in the Lane’s living room. Until I heard the floor boards creek behind me in the dark, telling myself it was probably Callum or Anthony attempting to scare me. I told myself it wasn’t possible for Mr. Lane’s ghost to reside in this world after death, even as I startled when a candlestick suddenly dropped to the floor with a loud thud. But when Eudoria’s scream of utter terror echoed through the empty house, there was no doubt something had been undoubtedly lurking in the shadows, waiting for one of to slip up. 4 days had passed since Eudoria went missing. Police reluctantly searched the house, but found no signs of foul play or disturbance, which was odd to say when several accounts remember hearing Eudoria screech in horror before she suddenly vanished. Not even a drop of blood to trace her to the spot she might have been kidnapped from. The three of us remaining were questioned twice in a day after several hours of waiting for the Chief of Police and the Primary Detective. Callum was let off after the first questioning in the investigation room, but Anthony and I remained until a long time after the second. By the time our parents were fully pissed that the police had kept the two of for so long and convinced that had no clue what had happened Eudoria, they let us go home. I allowed the tears to fall down my face until I slammed the door and hurled myself onto my bed. I sniffled a moment more before I wiped my face clean and shook with the intensity of an earthquake at the thought of what I had done. The police suspected nothing, but I was just the innocent, rich girl who got away with everything and didn’t know the first thing about murder. Still, even with my heavy heart, I smiled to myself a bit when I realized I had managed to keep my secret. Not a single a person suspected the crime that might have put me away for good. Not even the sliver of evidence I had accidentally left on the stair case where Eudoria was last seen. Maybe she deserved what came to her for betraying us. Or maybe that’s just what I tell myself to feel better about how things happened and I am involved in them.

March 18, 2008 I couldn’t be bothered to write in nearly a month since Eudoria had disappeared. And even now, I couldn’t be bothered to write down Dear Diary, in fear that the words would haunt me till my bones withered into the earth. When I told Callum my fingers couldn’t have the strength to pick up my pen and write down the whirl wind of emotions that hit the walls of my heart nearly everyday. Callum, like every other teenage boy at the door of adulthood, only clapped me on the shoulder and told me everything would be fine. I only nodded my head in response and tethering my anger on a leash to keep from snapping at him for not understanding. I knew Callum was discouraged too. He mourned in his own way, covering his grief under the disguise of jokes and humor. Tella didnt understand my pain either when I told her about how I felt about this whole ridiculous investigation, which the police and detectives have conveniently kept under the rug for the most part. Tella didn’t say much and only smiled sympathetically, but it didn’t meet her wan eyes. Tella had since become a ghost since Eudoria vanished. She mostly kept to herself, hiding away in the comfort of her room, no longer the same girl who had once laughed in the face of heartbreak and dared to try and crumble her walls. She no longer was the woman who smiled brightly when the four of us would go sailing in the ocean numerous times a week. She was a husk of her old self. Her normally bright blue eyes heavy with dark circles, her once tan face now faded to a pale hue, and her former hourglass of a killer body now barely more than ribs and skin. Something ate away at her, slowly, bite by bite until she was nothing more than a shadow. I knew her and Eudoria were best friends and would have expected her to act this way, but I guess I never expected something like this to happen or to see the light in Tella’s face completely fade away. For days, I waited for a letter from Eudoria to tell us that this was all some sick joke and that she wasn’t really gone at all and just did this to test us. Callum might have been the unserious one in our group, but Eudoria was born for puzzles. When no evidence of her riddle appeared after two weeks of waiting, I gave up and knew it was more than just a prank. I blame myself for this entire mess. When I was taken in for questioning a third time, I was fully convinced the police were trying to bait me into telling them something that was best left unrevealed. I had played their games before, plenty of times. I had even stayed the night in the jail on numerous occasions for committing stupid felonies like trespassing on Mr. and Mrs. Lane’s property. Even when the police continued to attempt to get information out, I didn’t relent. Somehow, they new I was keeping secrets, but they didn’t bring me in a fourth time when my parents had enough of their bull crap. Still, what I had done followed me around like a snake. One moment I could blind myself to the hisses it whispered at me and the next it would strike and hit me in the places the wounds could never be healed. No matter how desperately i needed to tell someone about the crime that might have costed Eudoria her life, I couldn’t make myself do it out of my own selfishness. I knew what she did, but I didn’t think it deserved a punishment this harsh, even if I had been the reason she was being punished at all.

April 07, 2008 Dear Diary, Well, here I am after nearly two months since Eudoria’s sudden disappearance. I remember when Anthony told me a few weeks ago that he couldn’t find it in himself to write anything and it seems I ran into the same predicament. I hadn’t expected for the turn of events to happen and I also had not expected them to hit me so hard. Even with my part in Eudoria’s vanishment. The police let me go after one round of questioning, convinced I was some teenager who could take nothing seriously enough to answer questions about my girlfriend’s disappearance. In truth, the matter of it hadn’t really hit me until I sat alone on the docks without her hand holding mine, gazing out at the sunset. I wouldn’t allow myself to go as far as crying, but internally I was screaming at myself for allowing her to disappear. Over the years, I had learned to conceal my grief with the facade of crappy jokes and a smile that didnt quite reach my eyes. I had entirely mastered the art of hiding the hurt, at least for most people. Anthony knew better than anyone what I felt. I saw the sympthay in his eyes, the understanding. I also saw the guilt too. Not for what he had done himself, but for what him and Eudoria attempted to hide behind closed doors. Anthony didnt know that I knew and it was best to keep it that way. He was my best friend and the weight I could almost physically see weighing him down was consequence enough. Tella was another story entirely. She often skipped school now, which before Eudoria, was rare. She was a straight A student in everything except for math and was one of the most diligent teenagers known to this generation. Now she hid away in her room, no longer the chipper person that was the hope of the group. I too had changed, but it was mostly only known to me. Like Tella and Anthony, I too felt the guilt of my part in Eudoria’s kidnapping. The two them also didn’t know that I knew what they tried to do to Eudoria and they also didn’t know that their plans failed, because mine succeeded… She betrayed me as much and maybe even more so than Anthony and Tella. And unlike the two of them, the things Eudoria had coming to her were well deserved. Eudoria thought she could best me, but what she failed to know was that I knew her more than her own self. She might be a master of riddles, but I am a master of lies and I could put the pieces together before she was finished telling us what needed to be solved. I just hope she knew how much I loved and hated her in those last few moments. I might not have been the one who kidnapped her, but I sure as hell had a part in it…proudly, even if the consequences of what I had done chilled me to my core.

February 21, 2009 Dear Callum, Anthony, and Tella, I realized my mistake the moment I betrayed the three of you, but you all took me for stupid. You know what I did, but what you failed to realize is I know what YOU did. It’s been exactly one year since my disappearance, but who says I really disappeared at all? The detectives? Your parents? Maybe even mine? I am quite disappointed at your putrid attempts to get rid of me, but what you don’t understand is that I am full of twists and I make the rules to my own game. I am also disappointed at how terribly the three of you underestimated me and how quickly you gave up and that you failed to figure out the puzzle. You thought me dead didn’t you? Well it’s very unlikely since it seems I am very much alive and very much so writing this letter. Good luck…you’ll need it. P.S. Mr. Lane didn’t disappear either… Your dearest friend, Eudoria

I gazed at the striking, young woman before me. Her gun pointed square at my head and her blue eyes were nothing more than a blank stare at my face. She stood still as a statue in the Royal’s gardens. She didn’t understand the consequences of killing me. She had been lied to just like every other existing person on this earth that dared to defy the will of Royal Houses. I know her not, but she was like the rest of the Rebellion. She too was stripped from her land and poisoned to believe the deeds of the Royal’s were for the greater good. I had failed my mission to rescue these people from their fate. There was no one now to save us. Even still, I looked the woman in the eyes without an ounce of submission and held my head high. I felt the defeat in my gut, but knew it was far too late to do anything more. The Royal’s had begun their schemes and ran turmoil throughout the rest of the world. There was nothing to be done. I clenched my fist as the woman cocked the gun and put her finger on the trigger. Any moment now and I would be dead. Any moment and the I would never have to worry about this desolate and defiled world anymore. Any moment now and I would let the peace of death take me to a place where control and unrelenting evil of this life would cease. Whatever the afterlife shall be, surely it will be better than this one. I smirked at the woman in front of me, even though I knew she couldn’t really understand what I meant by it. She was a stranger to me and yet I knew her all too well. I knew the way her eyes used to sparkle when the sun hit them just right. I knew her smile could brighten every room she walked in better than the light of a thousand stars. I knew the way her brown hair would fall over one shoulder when she was focused in the merriment of reading. I knew the way she bit her bottom lip when she was concentrated far too unyieldingly on specific difficulties. I knew the way her body relaxed when she would see me walk through the door of the foyer every morning after a long nights mission. And most of all, I knew the way she looked at me with longing and relief before she would whisper the words “I love you” just after I returned to her warmth and comfort from a deadly task the night before. A stranger to me now and yet not a stranger at all. I felt the tears prick in the corners of my eyes, but none fell. If I had any dignity left as a man, I wouldn’t make a show of emotions here and spare my wife the torment of my feelings long kept at bay. So my grin grows wider as I replay the moments when my wife was not drugged to be nothing more than a killer. When her love warmed my heart so fully that I never thought there was any room left for me to feel much more or when my soul met hers every time our hands made the slightest touch and my lungs ceased to breathe. I would die remembering the way her laughter made my entire being incandescently and irrevocably radiant in the pureness of blessed bliss. She was all my world and yet it was rapidly fading out of my grasp as I dared another glance at her empty, blue eyes. I took a steadying breath and swallowed the emotion in my throat. “Take your shot, stranger. You’ll only get one.” I told her, a smile still displayed upon my face. She pulled the trigger and the body of a guard fell limp near by. I quickly glanced at the definitely dead guard bleeding out next to me and gaped at my wife, speechless. I stuttered, “How-But you were-I don’t…” I trailed off. She looked at me, determination causing her brows to narrow. “Run.” She commanded. That was all she said before all hell broke loose in the Gardens.