Hey, lookie here. Another not!one-shot. It was supposed to be one at first, but I scrapped that idea. The entire thing was going to be thrown away, to be honest, but I loved it too much to take it out like that. So...here we are. And, for the record, this is being placed under 'supernatural' because it was indirectly inspired by creepypasta. Creepypasta's pretty supernatural-ish, right?

Again, any character who doesn't belong to me belongs to Seirei. I'm not sure who's gonna show up in this thing, but...keep that in mind, kay?

--

Rayce tried not to hum the Mission: Impossible theme too loudly as he snuck around the corner, fully intent on avoiding his sister as much as possible. Chances were that she would be bitchier than normal, what with it being early morning and everything. Even if Katherine willingly got up at the crack of dawn, she was never a pleasant soul to be around, coffee or not. Well, she was nice to her kids...and husband...and their parents...basically, everyone except her baby brother, but that was nothing new. Their sibling rivalry was near legendary, at least to those who knew the pair.

The coast appeared to be clear; the nymph ducked through the doorway that lead into the large kitchen, noting a few of the bed & breakfast's staff members wandering around and getting breakfast ready. There were two families at the estate right now, one of which was his own. It was another of those near-annual get-togethers that Daphne insisted on since re-learning the location of her one and only son, as she and Aidan both knew they'd never see him unless he was dragged back to Connecticut now and then. Rayce didn't normally mind, with the exception of Katherine's demon spawn growing far too fond of him. He really, really didn't like little kids, especially when they were both under eight years old and very loud.

"You haven't seen my beloved sister 'round, have you?" The young man leaned casually against the stove where one of the employees was tending to a rather large skillet. Upon closer inspection, one could see that it was home to several pieces of sizzling pig flesh. "I'm trying to avoid her, but that usually means she'll be glaring at me everywhere I go."

"She's right behind you," the other lied, trying to hide his laughter when Rayce whipped around and tried to take on a kung fu stance of doom. Needless to say, there was no bitchy blonde woman in sight. The cook received a half-hearted glare, but fending it off wasn't that difficult.

"I'm watching you," Rayce threatened as he strode towards the refrigerator. "Vengeance shall be mine, but for now, I must have orange juice." He swiped one of the clean glasses from a nearby tray that didn't seem to be in use, and retrieved the economy sized jug of pulpy juice from its icy prison. The first serving was chugged down in practically no time, and he went for a second just as the object of his wariness pushed through the doors into the kitchen.

Katherine set her sights on her one and only sibling and zoomed in for the kill, looking as irritated with his presence as physically possible. "Try not to be too rapacious, would you?"

She was ignored as the glass was drained and refilled once more. Rayce paused in drinking it, though, smirking faintly at the blonde as her temper was further riled up. "Sorry," he finally started, setting the cup down to cross his arms. "Civil conversation can't be had until I've ingested 300 of the vitamin C I need. If you'd like to engage in a battle of the wits, however, I'd be more than willing to comply."

Warning bells were practically screaming in the minds of those who were aware of how wonderfully the pair got along. The employees didn't particularly want a fistfight to break out in their kitchen, even if Rayce and Katherine were granted special privileges due to being the grandchildren of the owners. Knives would probably be tossed again, and that was never pleasant.

The man who had been in charge of the bacon took the initiative and walked over, resting his hands lightly on the nymph's shoulders to pull him away from the pissed woman. "If you don't mind walking over here, away from the utensils and implements of stabbery, I'll introduce you to these lovely muffins. You might even get one if you promise to behave," he bribed, knowing it would probably work wonders.

While Rayce was 'ooh'ing over the food, Katherine briskly unscrewed the lid of the water bottle she had been carrying and poured a small amount of the contents into the orange juice glass. Hopefully, her brother would return for it, otherwise her less-than-innocent plot would be delayed further. She felt no regret whatsoever, despite the fact that swallowing the liquid wouldn't bode well for much anyone. If it had such an effect on gods, one could only imagine what it would do to a lowly demon.

With a tiny smirk, she turned and walked out of the kitchen briskly, knowing that it wouldn't take too long before she knew whether or not it had worked. Sure, Daphne and Aidan wouldn't be all that pleased, but there wasn't much they could do. There were no authorities who would believe a crackpot story based on mere legends.

"Kay, so she's gone, which means I'll prolly wind up behaving. Can I have the bloody muffin, or will I have to exert force?" Rayce rested his hands on his hips, completely aware that it didn't make him look any more threatening. He then stopped, stared at the top of the food item in question, and frowned. "...But first. Are those banana nut?"

A few moments later he was trudging back to the glass of orange juice, grumbling about stupid allergies and the lack of decent, unmurderous muffins. The nymph decided to finish off the juice off before wandering off to do whatever, such as annoying family members and sliding around on the upper floors. It didn't take too long for him to notice that something was more than a little bit wrong with the drink, though; for starters, it was a little less pulpy and a great deal nastier than it had previously been.

Things got kind of dim after that first sip. There was the shattering of glass, and an incomprehensible murmur of...something. The only thing Rayce could comprehend was the fact that his chest was burning and it felt like a pair of hands were wrapped around his throat. He struggled against the sensation, scratched at the phantom hands...but there was nothing there. Nothing at all. What was happening...?

The nymph lurched to his feet, ignoring the pain that lashed through his foot as he unconsciously stepped into the pile of broken glass. There were more murmurs, and they were clearly supposed to be voices. Whatever was being said was totally lost on him. It seemed like unconsciousness would be reached any moment now, but...it never happened.

That was when he realized what had happened. Rayce had heard too much about it over the years to be wrong...somehow, he had swallowed the waters of the Styx. Katherine had...but how? It wasn't something a regular mortal could get to, and...using it so carelessly on someone completely undeserving...it meant one year breathless and nine voiceless. Ten years of agony because of sibling rivalry.

Ten years. It couldn't be possible. It just...couldn't. But...that was the punishment for a god who broke an oath sworn on the river. An immortal being who couldn't be killed, even if torn piece from piece and scattered across land and sea.

He wasn't a god. He was little more than a water nymph. Admittedly, getting rid of him seemed to be rather difficult, but...this might just do it.

--

"Katherine, would you mind too horribly if I asked to speak you to privately?" Daphne watched her daughter cooly, her face giving away absolutely no hint that she was about as angry as possible for a human. Had she still been half siren, things would be a great deal messier even though she was dealing with her own offspring.

The younger blonde stood up after murmuring something to her husband, and followed the other to a slightly more secluded section of the lounge. She wasn't particularly worried, since she thought she knew what Daphne was like when mad.

Katherine's blood almost ran cold when her mother produced the water bottle. Hadn't she put it back in the room...? No, it had been left on a table in the front hall because Kevin had distracted her.

Well...fuck.

"While I am severely tempted to ask how you procured water from the river Styx, I think it would be more pressing to find out what Rayce did to deserve ten years of torture and possibly death," Daphne said calmly, not even bothering to make it sound like a question. She got a blank look from Katherine, as if the answer should have been completely obvious, so she continued. "I know what this is, and just a few minutes ago a particularly harried member of the kitchen staff told me that your brother started choking for reasons unknown before running off. If you think I'm incapable of adding two and two together, you're sadly mistaken."

Ah, so it had worked. That lack of regret was still firmly in place, too. "Curiosity, I suppose. And because I didn't particularly care what happened to him, just in case it did work. I assume it did?" Katherine cocked her head to the side slightly, looking inquisitive. She was hiding an evil smirk, and it almost revealed itself when she saw the look in Daphne's eyes.

"Presumably," the older woman practically growled. "Though I take it you didn't care what would happen to yourself...I can assure you, daughter, that divine justice will be far more hellish than anything you'll have expected," she finished, turning sharply and walking away with a calmness that belied her true range of emotions at the moment.

Katherine watched her leave calmly, but a sense of apprehension was starting to grow. Why would the gods care about what happened to a minor demon? It was a gross misuse of sacred water, but no one in this day and age would bat an eyelash.

...Right?

--

It was...odd, to say the very least. Everything was red or grey and blisteringly hot. There were people everywhere; dark shadows, occasionally granted a more substantial form. They paid little attention to the most corporeal form there at first, opting instead to walk to and fro, exiting and entering houses and stores as if this was a normal city. Skyscrapers were built next to tiny hovels and homes, mixed together as if someone had taken the contents of a metropolis, shoved them into a blender, and pressed every last button in a very methodical order.

Had thinking been more than just a glimmer of an idea, Rayce would have concluded that this was his own personal hell. It wasn't because of the sand scraping against his skin and working its way into his clothes as he writhed on the ground, desperate for a lungful of air. It wasn't because of the blood and flesh gathering underneath his fingernails as he clawed at his throat in an attempt to make those nonexistent hands release their grasp on him. They were both very good reasons to hate his current location, but the real reason was by far the most sensible.

It was hell because Katherine's heart was still beating in her chest. It would have been so easy to rip her apart, and yet...

After spending the time required to hate her utterly and completely, he might have noticed just how freakishly strange the flow of time was. It wasn't...smooth, for lack of a better term. It skipped around, but nothing ever changed. The sun was always at the very top of the sky, always beating down on those beneath it, but more time had passed than should have been possible. That much was overwhelmingly obvious, though one would be hard pressed to explain why.

Not that any of it would matter for quite a while, anyway.