I remember that I had blonde hair. Mom was always stroking it and saying it was pretty. Grey eyes I inherited from Father.

Father...

I know that Father left us for his assistant. She doesn't have half the good looks of Mom, Dad knew this after a few years too. He tried to come back. We shooed him away.

Me and Mom are inseparable. After all, is is just us here. But that's all we need. Between my job as a Reporter and hers as a Lawyer, we have it good.

Why green?

My thoughts jerk me out of a haze. I was remembering... that's uncommon here.

I thought when people died, they saw a bright light or something. So then why am I seeing green?

I wonder...

What. What am I wondering?

Wait, green?

             "That seems to be the only thing on her."

Who is that? Is that me? Am I speaking?

             "How can anybody identify that? Her face is completely bashed!"

A different voice. Can I speak in two voices?

"Her mother knew instantly. She came in and cried for hours."

Mom.

I can't leave Mom.

I need to wake up.

The green flickers and I swear I see somebody in it. Somebody with horns.

Wait. What.

             "What the hell?! Sasha, come looks at this!!"

My eyes lock onto the figure walking towards me as a male voice echoes around this space.

              "You've done your research. You know I'm dangerous. Yet, your spirit called to me for help. This could go very badly for you."

If I was standing, not floating around in the nothingness, I'd be shaking.

               "Alright, Mortal. You've interested me. I'll give you a small gift as you come back to this world. But remember this: You owe me."

I never saw his face. He is just a blurry green smoke as his hand touches my forehead.

Then there's light.

And I'm suddenly looking at two, very worried, very panicked faces.

"M- Ma'am....?!" The male speaks first, appearing and sounding to be young. I slowly sit up,

"I-... I think I'm thirsty. Do you have anything to drink?" The male dashes off. The elder female is watching me with wide eyes,

"W- What are you. How d- did you- YOU SHOULD BE DEAD!!" I jump and realize where I am.

I'm in a morgue.

Then I catch a glimpse of my reflection on the shiny metal cabinets.

I don't have blonde hair anymore, that's for sure. It's so black that I almost think it's a dark shade of green for a second.

Green.

Oh shit. I f*cked up.

               "Yes, you did. Although, I think I would've used more colorful words." The lady has his voice. I roll off the table and run for the door.

Where did the guy go?!

When I slide across the tunnel I get an answer to my question. He's on the phone.

              "- alive!! Please, help us!" Then he sees me, "She's coming! SHE SEES ME!!!" And then hangs up.

I didn't move towards him since I've turned the corner. His eyes glaze over as he smiles,

               "There you go, Darling. Now you can be on the run from the very people you look up to." Then he falls to the ground.

I run over to him and kneel, but I know what I'm going to find. He's dead. And they will all think it's me.

Damn it Loki!!

I'd bet the female is dead too. Lights flash outside as the police set up a barricade surrounding the area. I take a deep breath and change directions. For once, I'm grateful for taking that extra story. The one about our morgues.

This is a two story building, with a basement. If I can't get out through the normal ways, I'll go to the basement. They wouldn't let me check there for the rumors of tunnels, maybe they're true.

It's really sad whenever your life hangs on the hope of a rumor.

I'm fine until the wall beside me explodes. Two words that scare the living crap out of me echo down the hallway.

                "HULK SMASH!!"

Oh for the love of- he sees me.

For a moment, we have a stare down. This who-knows-how-tall buff gamma guy staring me down.

               "Puny human smell bad!" I can't help but smile,

                "Now that's a little rude." Then he moves. His fist is arching around in a punch aimed at me.

I throw up my hands to defend myself.

Then it happens.

My mouth moves and whispers in an unknown language to me, so how I'm speaking it I have no clue. As soon as the words are out of my mouth there is an explosion.

He is thrown back and crashes through the wall opposite me.

My eyes widen as I look at my hands.

They're flickering with green power. His words echo in my head:

               "I'll give you a little gift..."

I don't have time for this. I thought about protecting myself, and I did. So, what if...

Once again, my mouth moves in a language foreign to me and a green light encases me.

By the time I catch a glance of Iron Man flying through the gaping whole, the world has disappeared and reassembled itself differently.

I can teleport motherfuckers.

(Time skip, going forwards two weeks.)

You know, whenever you see your face on TV with "WANTED" along the bottom, it really sheds light on the features you don't like.

For instance, this long black hair I can't cut with anything. Anything. It just won't cut. Nor will it hold color other than black.

I have annoying magic hair.

Also, I haven't been able to use my magic. I went to a few shady people I had contact with when I was a reporter, and they directed me here. To a shop with TV's all in front of it.

All showing my face.

I grit my teeth and walk in.

I swear, if this is a trap I will shot them.

The man behind the counter looks up.

He has red hair, brown eyes, and dark skin. We make eyes contact and he smiles,

            "I was wondering how long it would take you to come to me. Jimmy send ya?" I nod,

             "Jim." He lifts up a thick book and thuds is down on top of the counter,

              "He sent me the information you told him. You haven't been able to use magic since that day?" I walk up to him and eye the book,

               "Correct." He flips it open as the smell of an old book hits me with vigor,

                 "I think I know what type of magic you've inherited." He turns to a page that is written in what looks like Latin. How I know that I have no clue.

                  "Latin magic? Is that even a thing?" He grins,

                  "Not Latin. This type of magic is spoken. It comes in five types. From weakest to strongest they're English, Spanish, Latin, Hebrew, and Greek." He turns the page that has a drawing of a dead, horribly graphic body. "Greek comes with a heavy price."

I flinch.

              "Great." He closes the book and puts it back below the counter, pulling out a darker, leather-bound book. He pushes it across the counter,

                "You will need this to learn spells and such, but..." he eyes me, "I highly doubt you'll be able to pay for it." I mutter under my breath,

                  "Right. How much is it?" His hand hasn't left the cover,

                  "More than you have." I look up and snarl,

                 "How. Much. Is. It." He leans against the counter, not trying to hide what he wants.

                 "Honey, I think we can work out-" I snap and he jumps.

                "You said Spanish is one of the languages? So what would happen is I used the Spanish from my classes at school?" He pales,

                 "You're bluffing." I raise an eyebrow,

"Do you honestly want to take that chance?" After a few moments, he slides it over to me. I pick it up and walk out of the store.

I never took Spanish classes.