"Seiko! Seiko!"

From behind me, I heard the dark cackles of Sachiko, lingering in the shadows. All the anger aimed at me from my earlier interference was forgotten, replaced by the sheer giddiness of watching her victims separate in screams and tears of anguish and regret. Naomi, her nails clawing their way inside her mouth to yank away large clumps of hair, continued to wail for her fleeing companion, struggling to apologize and fix the damage that had been dealt.

My fingers fold into a fist and I find myself shaking.

"Seiko! Seiko! I'm so-!" she crumbled and broke into convulsions, gagging and gasping her way to a heavy stand, reaching out to the walls for support.

Something inside me boiled and sizzled and I was far too enveloped with these new emotions of mine to realize the impossible was coming true.

I was feeling something other than physical suffering.

It was fury. I was getting genuinely upset.

"Seiko! S- I'm s-. Ack…" She punched the eaten away wood, drowning in her tears. How could Sachiko just stand there, enduring this...cruelty?

Why did it seem like I had been the one who yelled at Seiko? Why did it also seem like I'd also been the one being yelled at?

It hurt. It hurt so much.

"Seiko!"

With a grimace, I threaded fingers through my hair, pulling, tugging, yanking. These noises were unbearable. The screams felt like needles jamming into my flesh, cutting deep into my core. My skin felt flaky, the ground seemed to yank me down with such tremendous force. My eyes grew heavy and my lungs felt full of ash. With a violent cough, blood snaked down my chin and dribbled to the floor. Nails dug into my scalp and I could actually feel the pain that followed. A new sort of pain. Something besides whatever it was I was so accustomed to dealing with in my neverending cycle of death.

Everything I was succumbing to, it hurt much worse than what I was used to. Everything pulling me down and stabbing into me, it felt so terrifyingly real and I began to wonder absurdly if I had somehow managed to come back to the living just to be torn down back to the grave.

I felt a cold breath traveling down my spine.

Swiveling around, I jolted back a few feet, slamming into a closed door, wincing in pain.

Impossible.

"Who's there?"

Impossible.

Sachiko towered above me and I noted the door had crumbled under my thrown weight, throwing me to the ground.

Impossible.

"What...did you do?" I croaked, not daring to shuffle even an inch closer to the satanic girl before me. Her eyes crinkled with humor and her lips seemed to crackle under the stress being placed on them. They rose to an inhuman level and her tongue lashed out, moistening those dry, dry lips. The sound of approaching footsteps echoed the halls from beyond the collapsed doorway and I knew it to be none other than Naomi.

Impossible.

Without warning, the small demon pointed out her index finger, tilting her head innocently and gesturing towards my chest where a beating heart was meant to rest.

And sure enough, listening intently, a beating heart existed within. Alive.

Sachiko made sure to advance with her grubby finger, placing it just at my aching chest. Before I could protest, the tip of her nail sunk smoothly through and hit dead center of my precious organ. With a silent scream, I thrashed about, yanking away from her giggling self, grasping at my overflowing wound. I felt the life within me slowly ebb away, once again, and I carelessly clawed at the girl in my pooling rage. Easily she leapt back, placing a blood soaked finger to her lips in a quieting gesture. Then with another swipe of her tongue, she lapped at the blood, my blood, cackled, and sent me a shivering message through her killer stare.

When Naomi arrived, trembling and clutching a flimsy wooden plank, Sachiko took her leave and I sat in the rubble, dying again, staring wide eyed up at my company.

"Aren't you the one who saved me?" Naomi asked, relaxing slightly after noting my humanly presence, not yet seeing the horrible gash on my chest.

But on second glance, I noticed there really wasn't a mark left on me.

Sachiko had been serious.

I was her toy and would forever remain as her toy.

There was no such thing as a changed fate for me.

"Yes," I answered quietly, stiffening at her slow, cautious approach. She looked relieved. Being alone in a place like this was horrifying. Even a stranger could brighten the place a little.

Perhaps I could change this girls fate.