"So, Hazel comes back from church going on about heading outside on a cloudy night and the next morning she's dead? Come on, you can't tell me there's not something sketchy going on!" Iain pleaded with his two best friends.

"Iain, please," Lauren groaned.

"He's right, though. There's more to this than you think. She- she wouldn't do that to us, and especially not to Tunnuk," Venice said with a sigh.

It'd been a few weeks since Hazel's death, and the three sat together in the bed of Lauren's truck with hot thermoses of cocoa to keep them warm. It was finally warm enough for the funeral, with it being above freezing for the first time in almost a month. If everyone in Blackwater agreed on one thing, it was mourning the loss of Hazel Von Brandt.

"She wouldn't want us bickering like this, not today," Lauren said quietly.

Silence took over for far too long before anyone had the courage to speak up. The wind howled through the trees, sending shivers across the three friends' backs.

"I can't stand just sitting here doing nothing when we can all clearly see that something is very wrong here!" Iain shouted, standing up.

"Iain!"

"No! It's like you guys don't even care that your best friend is dead! Do you even get it? We know what really happened that morning. According to her mother, she said she never even went inside the church. Why would she lie about that?"

Iain's face was red with tears as he became a volcano of built-up rage. The others did nothing but watch helplessly as he broke down, completely unable to control his sobbing.

"I wish I could say it's okay," Lauren said.

Venice remained silent, sipping her cocoa and holding her arms close as the wind swirled around them. Her face was void of emotion.

"Do you have anything to say?" Lauren asked.

"I say we talk to the bastard," Venice growled, "whether he killed her or not, he knows something."

Iain's face lit up.

"I knew you'd agree with me!"

Silently, Lauren wished and wished they'd just stop. Still, she hopped in the driver's seat and motioned for the others to get in the back.

"If I get in trouble for any of you guys' stunts, you're dead," she muttered under her breath.

Gravel crackled under the tires of Lauren's truck as it crawled up the church's driveway. The radio was off, and for once, neither Venice nor Iain had much to say. She pulled into an empty spot with a deadened expression on her face.

"Please don't embarrass me," Lauren said, glaring at the two mischief-makers in the back.

"We promise we won't kill him," Iain said, glaring right back.

The three slid out of the truck in unison and began their march to the front doors. Lauren stayed in the back, as if by distancing herself she would be less responsible for the chaos that would surely ensue. Iain placed his hands on the doors and took a deep breath before pushing them inwards.

The reverend sat on the ground with arms wrapped around his knees. His silver hair was frazzled, as if he hadn't slept in days. He glanced up at the noise; he'd barely noticed it through his daze.

Iain and Venice exchanged worried glances.

"Are you alright?" Venice asked, kneeling down to his level.

"Oh, hello you three, I'm- I'm so sorry you had to see me like this," Johann said quickly.

Venice offered him a hand, which he gladly took. His knees shook as he stood, having to lean on the altar to keep his balance.

"I'm fine, I'm fine. It's all fine."

Johann spoke too fast. His free hand twitched, flexing each of his fingers in a nervous tic. His eyes darted around the room and his mouth went in and out of a fake smile.

"What's going on? Feeling guilty?" Iain snapped.

Lauren squeezed her friend's arm, which calmed him down faster than anyone expected.

"I- what are you talking about?"

"Hazel. You talked to her before she died," Venice said.

Her voice remained calm, but a hint of nervousness and annoyance still lingered beyond her calm veil.

Johann looked to each of the kids in front of him before pointing to a pew. They sat down and watched as the pastor pulled up a chair to face them.

"You won't believe me when I say this," he began, "but I honestly don't remember anything since the first of this month. When I woke up that Monday, I was sure it was the second, and when I checked my phone I was more confused than I've been in my life."

Johann's nervous twitching continued even as he spoke.

"So what you're saying is that for the past month, you were alive and walking around and delivering sermons and doing everything you normally do, but it wasn't actually you. Got it," Iain said, rolling his eyes.

"I talked to a doctor, and it's a long story, but they've confirmed I have zero recollection of anything that happened. Whoever was piloting me wasn't me."

"You don't think you were possessed!" Lauren gasped.

Iain rolled his eyes.

"Playing dumb and accusing your imaginary friends isn't helping your case with me," Iain spat.

"Iain, stop," Venice said dangerously.

"Sorry, Reverend, he's just struggling with this," she said.

"No need to apologize, Miss. I am too, trust me. The Von Brandts are like family to me. I don't know what happened this past month, but know that if anyone did this, it wasn't me."

Johann gave a solemn smile before stumbling on his still unsteady legs to the back room of the church, leaving the rest there alone. The sound of the door shutting echoed around the chamber ominously, making it seem so much bigger than it actually was.

"We should head back, the funeral is in an hour," Lauren said at last.

~~~

The funeral service was, as always, held inside the church. Though it wasn't nearly as cold as it had been before, the bitter breeze still nipped at their skin. Iain, Lauren, and Venice, rather than going with their families, decided to go on their own. They were almost a family themselves, but it wasn't the same without their Hazel.

Black was the color of choice in the town. Even Venice had dressed modestly for once. Before leaving, Iain spent nearly an hour putting her impossibly thick hair into elegant curls.

Though the rest spoke in hushed whispers, Lauren refused to speak as soon as they entered the crowded church.

It seemed like everyone in the town had come to the funeral. Seats were sparse, no matter where in the church they looked. The air was a little too stuffy for anyone to be comfortable, but it wasn't as if comfort was something anyone expected that afternoon.

Her casket was open in front of the altar. On either side, two candles flickered on ornate pedestals, bouquets of flowers between them. Hazel's mother was the only one at the open casket, knelt over and barely holding herself together. Both of her beloved daughters were gone.

Tunnuk Von Brandt looked to the three friends walking down the aisle and beckoned them to come close.

"Oh, I'm so glad you were able to come," she said, pulling the three into a hug, "I figured you should be the first to say goodbye."

Lauren nodded and looked at her best friend's lifeless face. Her skin was grayish, covered in makeup and her whole face looking a little odd. She'd been dressed in a pink gown, which made her cringe. Hazel never did like that color. Still, that wasn't the only thing that was off.

Hazel's eyes weren't fully closed as she thought they were. Looking closely, Lauren noticed something strange.

"Can we have a moment alone?" Lauren asked, turning to Tunnuk.

Tunnuk pulled her face into a pained smile and nodded.

"Look at her eyes," Lauren whispered.

"What about them?" Iain asked.

Venice moved closer to the bottom. Her mouth fell slightly open as she realized what Lauren was talking about.

"They're brown."

"You don't think she wore contacts, do you?"

"She had perfect vision."

Hazel's bright green eyes could light up a room, but the ones that looked back at them were... wrong. They were dark, and not even the rich brown that can make anyone swoon, but something more dreary.

The three looked at each other. It looked just like Hazel, but it wasn't her. Iain was right. Something was very wrong.

The rest of the funeral dragged on as if it would never end. The three knew what was going on, but that raised more questions than answers. Why? Where was she? Who?

"Should we tell someone?" Lauren asked under her breath during an Old Testament reading.

"If we're right, what can we do? If we're wrong, they'll think we're crazy," Iain replied.

"You said there's nothing we can do, but what if there is?" Venice said, looking over the crowd of people.

In the back corner far from anyone else sat an elderly man in a folding chair. He stuck out from the rest, with his bright blonde hair clashing with his visibly old age. As he looked around, the vibrant green of his eyes was visible even at such a distance.

"Do you see that man?"

"Yeah, what's that got to do with anything?" Iain said hopelessly.

"I think we should talk to him. I mean, look. He's like, a hundred years old and not a single hair has turned gray. We only know one other person with eyes like that. He's on the other side of the room, but I can see all the details about him," Venice said, not even believing the words that she said, "and hey, the worst that can happen is us being wrong.

When the funeral ended, the three friends remained inside, even as Reverend Johann disappeared again into the back room. The burial would be later that day and witnessed only by family. The only one left was the old man, who continued to stare blankly at the casket.

Venice turned to look at him. As soon as she moved her head, he glanced to their side and back at the same place he'd stared for the past hour. He moved his hand to beckon them close.

They dashed over to his side. Curiosity rushed through their minds like a stampede as they wondered all the things he had to say.

"You know her?" he asked, not moving his gaze.

"She was like a sister to me," Venice said with a hand on her chest.

The old man smiled and let out a small chuckle.

"Yeah, I understand that."

"Do you know her?" Lauren asked.

The man looked taken aback.

"You mean she hasn't talked about her own grandfather? Well, I guess I only saw her when she was a baby, but I've been around here since she was born."

"You are?" Iain said.

He nodded.

"I hadn't seen her since Daniel left, but I thought Tun would at least eventually tell her that Charles Von Brandt isn't her father," he said with a sigh.

The three exchanged worried looks. Hazel's grandfather noticed, addressing it with a calm chuckle.

"You do know she's alive, don't you?" he asked, looking them each in the eyes with his own.

They nodded in unison.

"Her body's eyes are different," Iain said.

"Correct. Now, this wasn't supposed to happen until her seventeenth birthday, but alas, it seems that someone else has taken that liberty. I'm far too old to be travelling too far, but if you three don't mind..."

"We'll do it!" Lauren said without a second thought.

"I'm in!" Venice added.

"And me!"

The old man smiled, showing a mouth of gold-capped teeth. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a crumpled piece of coffee-stained paper. He folded it up before giving it to Lauren.

"Ask for Lazarus Avaren, and tell him that Arken Eternas sent you," the old man said, as Lauren grabbed the paper, "and make sure that you never lose this."

Lauren nodded.

"Thank you, sir," she said, bowing her head.

"Do it quick," the man reminded, "or she might get lost."