This is wrong... We shouldn't be doing this, but... I think I love you.

Hello, mother, how are you feeling?

Corrupted fool, this world is darker than you can imagine, and it will remain so unless you let me get my revenge...!

Why are you crying?

This world is dirty and lonely. Let's see if I can liven it up a bit, eh?

Jason Dassault stared out the small, bar covered window of the hospital room. His thoughts shifted from topic to topic with the rythomic pitter-patter of the raindrops against the window pane. The only sounds other than the almost glorrifying one of the rain was his heartbeat, weak in his ears, but comforting to remind him he was still there, and vaguely frustrating, as well as the slow, even breathing of Zackrie Ponury, who had fallen asleep in his chair beside the hospital bed several hours ago, leaving Jason to swim around within his crazed mind.

Jason was a tall boy, and if wasn't for the scowl that only smoothed over when he was alone, he would have very well been one of the 'most wanted' boys in his local highschool, La Grande LHS, home of the Tigers. That, and his dangerous temper. His hair was a thick, glossy aburn that shadowed his sapphire eyes, which were glazed over from recent blood loss and internal conflict. He was tall and his muscles smooth, running under well tanned skin from the hotsprings him and his friends would often sneak up to while out horseback riding. He was handsome, and the rare smiles that he might get from either Zack, or Claire Znicz, his two-year girlfriend.

They had gotten together early december in his third year of highschool. It was originally just a fun outing, well that had been what he had told her, but since Jason had moved there, the middle of the summer before his third year of highschool in one of his many foster-homes, he had been convinced he had loved her since the first time she had caught him in the kids section of the library, reading goosebumps. Then, while they were on a bench, waiting for her ride to come from her older brother, he leaned over, intending to kiss her, but thought better of it, and whispered in her ear as her brother drove up, 'I love you'. And her brother dragged her home before she could even realized what he had said.

Jason sighed, turning the ring on his right fore-finger over in thought. It was the only heirloom he had of his real family, his birth mothers wedding ring. It wasn't the traditional diamonds, in fact, it was silver intwined with black opal and white gold, a thick red ruby inlaid within it. It was the only thing he had of memory of his childhood. The night his mother was chased out, and his father gave him the choice. Jason had gone crying and running after his mother in the snow of another storm, but she had already dissapeared. He turned to go back to get back in the car with his father, but the red chevy truck long gone.

And so was his childhood.

A tear streamed down Jason's cheek as he silently cursed himself. It had been his fault, anyways. But he couldn't help the way he felt. He loved his mother, and to him, his father didn't deserve her. He didn't deserve anyone.

Another raindrop came down with a light 'thwump', and he closed his eyes, pondering the thought of what had placed him in the hospital in the first place. He had just been told that in the next week he would be switching to a new foster home, one all the way in Spain, because they were the only ones who would take such a screwed up teenage boy, a family by the name of De Angelo, and he had snapped. He had locked himself in the basement, taking up a jagged peice of rusty metal that had fallen off of the rafters, and in his blind fury, rage, fear and pain, he dragged it deep through his wrists. If they hadn't knocked down the doors quick enough, with a policeman at their backs, he might have died from sheer bloodloss.

But he had almost given up, and he couldn't forgive himself.

His minds focus turned back to Claire, remembering and revelling everything he knew about her. She was tall, a startling 5' 7" to match his straight 6'. Her golden hair fell in waves around her thin shoulders, the blue streaks would always catch the light and seemed to glitter, intensifying her beauty. Her eyes were a red, a disturbing red. Some said it was a physical anomally, maybe she was a vampire or alien, or that she had been wearing contacts since she was little, but whatever the reason, they were what had made her a school outcast. She was quieter than most girls, and prefered animals to people, and it was hard for her sometimes. Her father was constantly out on buisiness trips, and her mother wasn't a very nice person, but she made up for that. Claire had a job working on old man Kirt's ranch, where he trained barrel racing horses. She was kind, she was gentle, but a had a tongue that would make a drunken sailor seem very insignificant.

Suddenly, drawing Jason's mind back into the present, a loud sound broke the silence, startling Zack back into conciousness as well. He looked around wildly for a second before going back to his usual glum state. Jason took a calming breath before grabbing his cellphone from the side table, his stitches in his arms stretching painfully. He grimaced, ignoring the sounds of the continuous melody of bheatovens 5th, and looked at the caller ID.

Shawn Wilk. His social worker. Jason sighed. She was the last person he wanted to deal with at the moment, but he would prefer to stay in the town that had gradually become his home, and answered.

"Is it possible for you to ever stop by and visit your favorite client," Jason drawled, giving a western accent. Zack quirked a brow, and Jason covered the speaker for a milisecond. "Shawn." He whispered, and Zack made puking motions. Jason rolled his eyes.

"Well, cowboy, I don't know what gave you the idea that I even like working on your case." She said tartly. She hated kids, but casework was the only job she could get, and since the last social worker had quit, the newbie at the firm was assigned to who had now been called, 'Slums Offspring'. It was very fitting.

"Anyways, get to the point. Your wasting my minutes, and I want to be able to pay my bill, that is also depending if I can stay in the country to keep my job." The woman snorted.

"Don't go fooling yourself, brat, and you shouldn't be worrying. The next unfortunate family to take you in happens to be within Lane County." Jason furrowed his brows.

"You're not telling me something." He said suspiciously, ignoring the fact that she had just given him the best news he had received in a very long time.

"Well, we did manage to figure out your birth mothers identity and birth place. We should find her within a couple of days." Jason froze, his eyes going wide. "I'll update you when I feel like, don't kill yourself, I'll be there to drive you to your new home tomorrow, have a good day, go through lots of pain, good bye, Jason." Jason closed the phone, pushing aside Shawn's jeers, as a small, tender smile broke across his face.

He was finally within the law to find out more about his mother, and he could see her. He could see his mom.

"What?" Zack asked, eyeing him carefully. "Last time you smiled it involved something sharp, and if it involves Shawn, I want no part... Unless there'll be blood. Is there gonna be blood?" Jason gave his sociopath best friend a look, and Zack shrugged, nothing seemed to faze the demented highschool senior.

"No. As far as I know, there is no blood. Shawn figured out who my mom is." Zack nodded, a rare grin breaking across his normally sad features.

"That's better then blood! Well, atleast for you... I was looking forward to that pricks pain."

"How condescending, Zack."

"How what?"

"Never mind."

"So, are you gonna go live with her now? Or are you gonna go live with those cultural mexicans?"

"Neither. I'll be eighteen and graduating soon enough, and I got a new foster home within city limits." Zack grinned.

"You want me to call the guys?"

"And Claire, if you don't mind."

Alex cursed as he dove behind an upturned pew, covering his eyes with his sleeve.

This is to funny to say I told you so...

"Yet you say it anyways," Alex hissed.

Now, now, let's focus on getting rid of miss 'this church is mine', you can debate about what I say and do not say later... Let's have some fun.

"Over my dead body." Alex grabbed his Pooh Bear backpack, slinging the strap over one shoulder, pulling out a pair of sunglasses tinted with his own blood. Because of his other self, holy water burned, so his own blood was his next best protection. He pulled his Athame as well, gripping the ivory handle as he shouted over the humming noise that was filling the room.

"Can you please stop this racket?! You're loud and it's getting annoying." The spirit of Sara Jane, a nun who had been haunting this church for hundreds of years, gave off an indignant flash of bright white light. Alex's new partner, Keith, cursed.

"I did not sign up for this!"

"Well, you're here now, what do you suggest?"

"You're the expert!"

"But I do value your opinion." Alex said mildly, dodgin another pew. Keith gave a startled yelp, cowering under his hands as he laid flat on the carpeted floor. "And if I stay here any longer, I'm going to get carpet burns."

"Well what kind of freakin' opinion do you want?!"

Careful, Alex...

Alex growled to himself, well, Ryan, actually.

"What do you think I should say to a five hundred year old nun who is obsessed with herself and hates christians, but is haunting a christian church?"

"Aren't nuns christians?"

"There we go!"

"What?"

"Thank you, I think we've solved this case. Excuse me? Miss Sara Jane?" Alex cleared his throat and closed his eyes. "Ryan, I would apreciate your french skills about now."

I might as well, this was getting boring...

"Miss Sara Jane," Alex silently aproved of his french accent and sudden skills in the old language. "I apologize for barging into your wild rant, but you see, you are terrifying several people this beautiful sunday. I am taking a guess, but I would assume that you were a nun in your glory days, but were executed?" The spirit shook her ethereal head, and Keith just stared at his insane boss and new partner, considering he couldn't see anything. "No? Well then, just speculating, but is there a chance that there once was monestary here, and you died here." She nodded. "Now, you would only be attached here if you were barried near by, so I am guessing the monestary was a bit away, and this church is built upon a graveyard, am I mistaken?" The spirit shook her head, the humming died down. "Ah, that's better. Well, I'm sure we would all appreciate it if you fixed up the church, and Me and my friend, Keith here, shall help you pass own, shan't we?"

"What?!" Keith explained. The spirit made a wild hissing noise towards him, and he flinched, ducking back behind the pew him and Alex were sheltering behind. Alex gave a dramatic sigh.

"Now, come on, it'll be fun."

You are such a lier...

"Ryan, please shut up, and let me do my job."

"Who?" Keith asked, his brow furrowing beneath thick locks of red hair.

"Oh, no one, just a demon."

"B-but demons aren't real!!"

"I would have assumed after this little event you would think differently. Now, Keith, can I safely assume that I can trust you?"

"Depends. Why?"

"I need you not to scream."

"Wha-" Keith started, but his eyes went wide as he fell into a faint at the sight of a mangled and torn, rotting corpse coming through the floor and falling with a thunk. The eyes shifted angrilly around Sara Jane, the spirit had tried to reconnect with the body.

Well, he didn't scream, and he didn't puke... I think I like this kid.

"Don't get any ideas, now, you said you wanted some fun? Please deal with this young lady."

Alex was tall and handsome. He had golden brown hair, and as Ryan took over, it darkened to a brownish black. His eyes normally a bright sapphire shifted to a deep black. His skin grew a little darker and his canines sharpened. His veins stood prominent and weathered with new muscle, and Alex's quite torn up suit fit this figure much better. The voice was gravily and acidic as it gave a maniac grin.

"This soul looks especially delicious..."

A little boy, about the age of five, floated within a swirl of pearly souls that swam around the large roofless mansion, humming along to the everlasting song of despair that came from the souls. He had short black hair that hung around his ears, and a black hat shadowed over where eyes should have been, but the essence of sight remained. He was dressed in a long grey raincoat, and he took a seat, floating on his bottom in mid air. A cry sounded, and his face hardened, a soul was drawn towards him with the snap of a finger, and he consumed the tainted soul.

"In any game, there must be a goal... Well, any game with order. I want chaos. So, I shall play this with my rules. I will have many goals, and all the rules will be mine. Because that is how you play." His voice was sadistic as he gave a crooked grin. A king peice from a chess game materialized in the palm of his hand. He held it upside down in front of his face, looking it over.

"Well, I will need a king."The peice changed, the child cocking his head to the side. "It wouldn't be too bad to have a queen. Now, I must have my pawns, and a knight in shining armor. I'll give him many castles and a princess... Or, how about he already has his princess, but he must save the queen? That sounds like fun... Yeah, I like that." He gave a twisted purr. "Then, I'll outnumber him, and put a traitor in his midst. yeah, then I'll add a bishop... Someone who knows the rules..."

"I know. His bishop can be Ryan. It's about time I played with him again, he must be getting quite bored."