Notes: For those of you who don't know, tomorrow's the two year anniversary for when I first created this story. That's right, The Darkwater Chronicles is turning two tomorrow. I'm very proud of how far I've taken it, honestly, and I can't wait for the rewrites to be done so I can get on top of the fifth book and start publishing this one.

Anyways, just wanted to thank my readers - ALL FIVE OF YOU! - for your continued support. If you wanna continue to support me in this venture, please review the story, share it with your friends, and if you're feeling really fun follow me on Twitter, just type in TyrranicFish. I haven't made many tweets but I'm trying to be more "hip" I suppose...Whatever, I hope the five of you like the chapter!

Chapter 10: Voices

I stand there for about 30 minutes before even daring to move, bracing myself against the doors, not letting that creepy fucker out. But in those thirty minutes nothing happens...he doesn't bang against the door, he doesn't scream...it's just silent. I'm tempted to peak down the crypt to see if it was all some kind of crazy dream but when I'm about to the blood stain on my hand tells me otherwise.

Fuck, I need to clean this off. You know, I didn't even fucking find that stupid Goddamn book, which was the whole point of me being in the study tonight. Stupid idiot, getting attacked by dead people.

Once I'm sure there's nothing going to be following me I start moving away from the crypt. There's still no noise or anything so...it should be safe, right? I can't be sure, it's not like I have a lot of fucking experience with these things. When I get in the house I snatch my laptop and head for the bathroom where I set it up and lock the door behind me.

I run the hot water in the sink with some soap and blast My Chemical Romance before I start on scrubbing the blood off my hand. It's a beautiful combination if you ask me, but I'm a big ol'fangirl so I'll say MCR in combination with anything is beautiful...like taking a leak. I'm sure they'd be flattered.

The sound of The Sharpest Lives practically shakes the entire bathroom, and it brings a smile to my face as I wash the blood off...Well, that's if the blood ever fucking comes off! It's about as bad as paint but smellier. The soapy water is red and is so hot it's burning my hand. If it's not red from the blood it's red from the heat.

A faint knocking on the bathroom door sets me into overdrive. Jesus Christ, that scared the fucking shit out of me! I run the water a little more to get rid of the red and stuff my hand in my pocket before saying "Come in!"

Dad walks in a bit like a zombie and asks, "What's up?" In his tired state that's the equivilant of asking "what the hell?"

"Nothing," I lie. "I'm just...dancing in the bathroom." I sit on the edge of the bathtub like an innocent teenage girl. He sighs and sits beside me.

He blinks a bit to try to wake himself up a little more and looks at me asking, "Why?"

"Well I had the urge so I brought my laptop in here and turned on some music," I answer.

"Okay, great, but why were you blaring...ah..."

"My Chemical Romance," I finish for him. I love it when adults don't know the names of the bands I listen to, it makes me feel smart. Or something.

"Right, them. Why were you playing that so loud at...two in the morning?" he asks calmly. You know, from most parents you'd expect yelling and then a harsh sentence to a local penetentary, but my parents were always very lenient with me. The biggest grounding I've ever gotten was when they took away T.V priviledges for a week because I stayed out late for a party. I guess they're just really cool...also, I'm not the most rebellious child.

"I just needed some noise," I tell him. And it's true, I need it desperately...I don't think I'll be able to sleep for a long time.

Dad sighs and rubs his eyes. "Okay, so is there something wrong, kiddo? You seem a bit jumpy." Do I? I thought I was hiding it rather well.

"I am not," I lie to him, again.

"You're looking around like someone's stalking you, Alex," he says.

This time it's my turn to sigh. "Okay, Dad, I've been ah...How do I put this..." I don't know how. This is all gonna sound crazy to him and first thing in the morning I'll be packed off to the mental ward. I look at him straight in the eye and say, "Dad, I've been seeing ghosts."

He wipes his eyes tiredly and repeats, "Ghosts," in disbeleif. "Like little kids in sheets?"

I grin. "No, more like faceless people and scary floating women." I decide not to tell him about the crazy guy living in our backyard or the visions I get from touching blood. That's stepping into the bat-shit crazy realm. Ghosts are a manageable delusion, though.

"Is that why you freaked out at school yesterday?" he asks me.

I shrug. "Kind of."

"Well, what do you want to do about it?"

"I want...to order a pizza," I say, staring off in the distance. "Extra pepparoni."

Dad laughs as he shakes his head. "Tell you what, you go to bed and we can talk about having that for dinner tomorrow. Sound good?"

I give him a big one-armed hug and say, "Sounds good."

He gives me a kiss on the forehead before leaving and saying goodnight. At least I told someone now...I didn't tell him everything, sure, but in time maybe I will. Maybe once I figure out what the hell is going on. I need to find that book.

As I get up to put away my laptop, the last smears of blood on my hand catch my eye. My stomach turns over and I feel like throwing up again. This is like a bad dream that just won't end...maybe I'll wake up back in Eastbridge with the smell of my parent's coffee.

I spent my entire night lying in my bed staring up at the ceiling. How the fuck could I sleep after all that? Like, really, I've never heard of a more unreasonable demand to make of myself. Whatever, I get up before the alarm clock goes off...about two hours before. It's fucking five in the Goddamn morning. Why do I do this...

After getting changed into some fresh clothes I creep out of my room and sneak back into the study. When I get into the dining hall my heart literally almost climbs out of my throat and bashes my skull in. Edmund's portrait hanging over the doorway to the study is probably the most unsettling thing I could've seen this morning. I take a deep breath to get rid of the numb feeling in my chest and enter the study.

He looked different back then, like he hadn't been locked in a sarcophagus for centuries. You know, that's probably it. I doubt being in there was any good for the skin let alone his mental faculties. Fucking undead psycho.

The study is just as I'd left it, books scattered around and piling up in some places like a tornado came through here. A tornado named Alex Walker, it was devastating, homes were destroyed, people died. Okay, I'm being dramatic, but books were thrown around, not one of them named "Accounts of the Darkwater Attrocities."

I sigh and start digging through the remaining bookshelves. It takes a good hour or two before I throw a book at another bookshelf while screaming obscenities. I lie on the ground of books and let out an angry puff of air to get some of my hair out of my face. Then I start to feel something, something similar to what I felt when I climbed our tower to find that book.

It's different now, though. Friendlier, I guess. A voice echoes from by the desk, but I can't make out what it said. I climb off my book bed - which I don't recommend ever sleeping on, book spines hurt when they jab into your back - and start moving toward Uncle Barney's old desk. There are bookshelves by it, but the strange voice isn't leading me there. The faceless people appear before me again, but just two of them. A man and a woman, the man holding up four fingers, the woman pointing to my left.

Suddenly what Arnold said rings in my head. "Fourth case from the left," he'd told me. Wait, how the fuck would he know? The faceless man and woman don't budge, they just wait for me to comply, so I do. The fourth bookshelf from my left...I make it to the bookshelf and - Oh fuck me. It's been right here this entire time. The thin book, shoved between two rather thick books about the history of the British Empire and fancy cooking recipes. Feels like an odd combination but whatever.

I pull the thin book out and weigh it in my hands. It's pretty fucking thin, these attrocities must not have had a lot to them. I look back for the faceless couple but they're gone, and so is the pull that brought me to them.

It only now just dawns on me what time it is. I've gotta run to catch the bus before it leaves, I mean I went the whole day yesterday. I've gotta keep that record going. I head for the study's exit when the crypt in our backyard catches my eye. That fucking insane guy is literally in there...that is by far, the most unsettling realization ever. He's just waiting, in an old tomb behind my house.

That dark voice from last night rumbles in the back of my mind, entering with laughter. "It has begun now. Not even the greatest of miracles could halt it now, my child."

A chill runs up my spine. I don't like the sound of that...I should just fucking ignore it. Yeah, that's what I'll do. I turn away from the gigantic window and start heading for the exit. If I'm fast enough I'll be able to catch my bus.


When I get on the bus, I sit right beside the reluctant, rude, and kind of bitchy Hannah again. She sighs like I'm the worst person in the world who also smells like onions, but despite that I firmly plant my cute posterior on the leather. Here's a thought...how can an ass be cute? It's literally the shittiest thing ever and guys stare at them for some reason. It's a little weird, not gonna lie!

Whatever. Hannah's purposely trying to ignore me, which is really quite flattering. She's putting a lot of effort into it. I'm not here to talk to her anyways, so I pull out the book and crack it open. It feels like it hasn't been opened in centuries but that's probably because it hasnt.

It starts off simply enough, "These are my accounts of the Darkwater Atrocities committed by my own father, Edmund Darkwater. I am Terrence Darkwater, and his actions have stained my family's blood with darkness" and blah blah blah.

These "atrocities" didn't happen until the year of Terrence's sister's death - Ghost Lady? - but the events leading up to them...hmm. Edmund was once a normal young man, and fell in love with a normal young woman. Normal despite the fact that the Darkwater bloodline has always had deep roots in magic, and the woman was no vanilla cupcake, either. She-

"What? Not going to try and talk?" Hannah interrupts in a way that makes it sound like she's trying too hard to sound like she doesn't care.

I slowly look up from my book and over at her. Figures, she's the kind who loves attention. I smile and say, "Hi!" She scoffs and turns back to the bus window, leaving me to return to this rather fascinating read.

Alright, where was I? Right, his beloved Emily wasn't just some farm girl, she was a sister in the church but she abandoned it to be with Edmund. It wasn't until after their union when things began to fall apart. She was with child, which was a joyous occasion, of course, but when the time finally came for the happy young couple, she died in giving birth to twins.

Heartbroken, Edmund took the twins back to his manor in the town named after his parents and began his research into something called the Arcanum. There's not a lot written on it or how he came to get his meaty claws on it but what it does say is unsettling...it's supposed to be the book of secrets. The pathway to ultimate power and understanding, and can even unlock immortality-

"What are you reading?" Hannah interrupts...again.

"A book," I tell her.

Anyways...After Edmund discovered this- "What's it about?" Oh my God!

"You know, for a girl who's supposed to hate the world and doesn't like talking to anyone, you talk a lot," I tell her somewhat rudely.

She shrugs it off and persists. "So what's it about?" She doesn't wait for me to answer and instead lifts up the cover to read the title. "The Accounts of the Darkwater Atrocities?"

"Yeah, you know, history. Very boring shit, you wouldn't be interested," I lie. In all honesty it's actually quite fascinating, Captain.

Now, where was I? Oh, yes, after Edmund discovered this- "Why are you reading it then?" she interrupts yet again. Jesus H. Christ, I cannot have one moment of peace, can I?

I shut the book. "I'm not," I smile. "How are you?"

She glares and returns to staring out the window like she's in a bad music video. Okay, what the hell?!

"Oh," the dark voice laughs in the back of my head, "this one's interesting." Yeah, no fucking kidding, but I'd rather not open a dialogue with the voices in my head. "Regardless, her blood will tell you more, my child."

Her blood? Well gee, thanks for the tip! I'll just grab a knife and bathe in it, does that sound good? Jesus fucking Christ the shit I put up with. This internal rant seems to only cause the dark voice to laugh again. Giggly fuck, isn't it?

Hmm...maybe it isn't just blood on its own. Maybe...if I focus...I clear my throat as loudly as I possibly can to get her attention, which seem to work. She turns to me to see me holding out my hand to shake.

"What?" she asks me, eyeing my hand strangely.

"Hi, I'm Alex," I say happily. I feel like I've been over this with her before.

"I know," she practically hisses. "You told me yesterday." I prompt her to shake my hand, which is still a little sensitive from the heavy duty washing I put it through last night. It's just lucky I don't work at the Diefenbunker. "Why do you-"

"Just shake my hand," I demand, smiling like a crazy woman wielding a flamethrower claiming she's taking care of the extra orphans.

She shakes it, looking at me with wide, worried eyes. Nothing happens, so I foccus more, trying to envision her blood running through her veins like the water on a slide at one of those water parks where guys kept staring at my- Jesus, we're getting off topic. Blood!

Suddenly I'm not on the bus anymore, but instead I'm in a forest, running, running faster than any human can. I can smell the pine in the air, the wind in my hair and the dirt beneath my paws - Wait, hold up. My paws? Humans don't have paws, what the fuck have I been smoking? Suddenly I'm on the edge of a cliff, white paws just about ready to leap off, which they do, as with the rest of me - I mean Hannah. Feathiers appear and suddenly she's gliding through the air, and then flying. The memory ends, and I wake back up in the real world where Hannah has already pulled her hand away from mine and is staring at me like I'm the crazy person on the bus - Oh holy shit, I am.

"Huh," I say after a minute. "You are interesting, aren't you?"

"Um..." she starts, "...thanks?"