"So then, Max. Where are we off now?" I ask, spinning around, feeling joyace.

"I don't know," he says, very Spock-like. He looks at me and laughs, "I'm guessing the spirits are making you feel better."

"May-be, why?"

"Your hair has changed to a very light yellow."

"Oooh," I examine it, "I'm back to being blonde again! Wooo!" I start dancing on the spot, "da da da da, da da-da da."

"You're a mentalist!" Max says.

"I already know thaaaaat," My, that, is extened by slipping on some liquid. I look at my hand, covered in blood. "Arg," Max pulls my up, I feel the blood staining my jeans.

I wipe my bloody hands down the front of my blue jeans, as  a habbit. I look down and curse under my breath. "Thanks," I mutter to Max.

"No problem."

"Why is there blood on the flo-"


"Bah... sorry, habit."

He laughs shortly, "Because someone was obviously hurt."

"I know, but to leave such a trail of blood, what if the police find it?"

"Don't know, I think someone was trying to help."

"Or maybe," I crouch down and examine the blood carefully. I starts telling what happens, using my voice.  "The child of the sky," my voice is empty and hollow. "Was attacked, he fought them off using the sky and weather as his weapons.

"He was shot down all the same. The attackers found a new sent and followed it, the child of the sky crawled and pulled himelf to a nere by house." This is creepy. I stand up and walk along side the blood, Max follows. "Inside," we approch a semi-detached house. "The child of water helped him inside. They are both in there now, unaware of the danger yet to come."

"Wow." Max says.

"Max," I don't speak, the story teller does. "Help them and her."


Just like that, the story teller lets me have my body back. I collasp to the ground, unconcious. The story teller used to much of my energy.

The End

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