☆☆☆☆☆☆Sammie's POV☆☆☆☆☆☆

Sammie woke to the rain on the roof of the shed. Soft pitter patter on the roof and window still had a calming effect. The flora growing there turning invisible. Skeleton flowers, she mused, falling back to sleep.

Pitter..

Patter..

Pitter..

Patter..

Half-awake and dazed, Sammie stared up through the window to the flowers and trees swaying back and forth.

Cool, Sammie thought, they really are skeleton flowers. She had seen them around but never really paid attention to them. They grew onto the window and half way into the shed. The sounds of rain nearly lulled her back to sleep.

She wanted to sleep. Heaving a sigh, she rolled over, trying to get comfortable on the mattress.

Feeling resistance when she shifted, Sammie looked down to find that she was tangled up in a thick blanket. She sighed, sitting up.

"Good morning, sleepyhead!"

Sammie scrambled backwards, she had forgotten where she was. Samuel leaned over her, careful not to get too close.

Sammie's arm was covered in a flame. Ready to defend her.

"Ha," Samuel said, grinning. "I was starting to get kinda bored waiting for you to wake up."

Sammie didn't recall falling asleep, but she'd been so tired. She was still tired. Pushing herself to a sitting position with arms that were stiff and sore, Sammie scattered her magic. Spent magic drifted down around her, falling around them like snow.

"I always loved snow, though I have never seen it myself," Samuel said wistfully.

Sammie looked away. "Me too."

With the green fire gone, Samuel approached. He held something hidden in pullover pockets.

"I brought you some breakfast," he said, with a touch of pride. "I hope you like cinnamon rolls, it was all I could get without making a scene."

He brought out cinnamon rolls, each individually wrapped. From the logo, Sammie instantly knew they were from the gas station by the police station. Sammie looked away. She only hoped the cashier at the gas station had been in the back. Hopefully, he was okay.

"How did you get these?" Sammie ran her finger over the wax paper. The bunny logo smiled up at her.

Samuel pouted. "What is that supposed to mean? It's not like I have any money, sweetheart," he said, crossing his arms, "I was just trying to do something nice for you."

Sammie looked back at him, glaring. He grinned at her, his face was close to hers.

"Relax, that dope didn't even see me. He'll never miss them."

Sammie sighed, staring down at the stolen cinnamon rolls. She really hadn't considered the practical aspects of her self-imposed exile. Something as mundane and trivial as food had been the furthest thing from her mind last night. Part of her still refuse to eat. She set it aside. "I'm not hungry."

Samuel glared, just for a second, then perked back up. "Don't be silly, samitch! You haven't eaten for a whole day by now. You have to keep your strength up."

Regardless, Sammie had zero interest in food. All she wanted to do was go back to sleep. Just do nothing and let the rain fall over her.

When she had left Misaburn, it had been without any sort of plan, only the sure knowledge that everyone was better off with her gone. Now it was morning, and she still had nothing more in mind than just being gone. No future tense, no later, no tomorrow.

She had nothing. Nothing but a small pile of cinnamon rolls that she didn't want, and Samuel.

"Samantha," Samuel said, picking up one of the packets and pressing it into her hands. "Eat. There's no point in starving yourself." He prodded her arm, urging.

"I don't want it. You eat it."

He frowned. "I went to the trouble to get you these." He drew closer, and his voice took on a warning edge. "I think you're being rude."

"Sorry," Sammie said, fidgeting with the packet but making no move to open it.

Samuel stretched to loom over her, hovering too close and staring. Sammie just kept her gaze trained downward.

That didn't seem to be the reaction Samuel wanted. "You know, the heartbroken act is getting old fast. I'm being thoughtful, so the least you can do is be polite about it. Now let's try again.."

☆☆☆☆☆☆Samuel's POV☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Sammie said nothing, did nothing. Anger that he felt, anger that he wasn't used to, made his chest heat up. Of all the ungrateful...

Samuel grasped her jaw, forcing her to look up at him. Her brown eyes held nothing.

"Eat," he said, bareing teeth, "or I'll shove it down your fucking throat myself."

He'd only spent the last two hours trying to find something for Sammie to eat. The cinnamon rolls had been a stroke of genius, he'd thought. It was wrapped up, all clean and easy to carry, and it tasted good. She should count herself lucky that Samuel had put forth the effort to find something fresh when he could easily have rooted through a trash bin for whatever wasn't entirely rotten and brought that instead. He had expected a little gratitude. Maybe even another hug.

If nothing else, he'd expected her to eat. Sammie glowered up at him defiantly. Was she trying to call his bluff? Cute. Two could play that game. Samuel grabbed at cinnamon roll.

Shaking her jaw free, Sammie snatched the packet out of Samuel's reach, tore it open, and took a bite.

His favorite chewed sullenly, glaring daggers at him. Her face pinched in an adorable way. Good. She was eating.

"That's better," He said, satisfied. He backed off and watched her with a sense of minor accomplishment.

Once Sammie seemed to realize how hungry she actually was, she ate with less reluctance. Samuel made a small sound. He wasn't going to let anything ruin his mood today. Sammie ignored him for the time being, focused wholly on her food. Her soft chewing was all that was heard, along with the rain.

"Isn't this fun?" Samuel leaned against Sammie, playing with a skeleton flower. It was transparent due to the rain. Over time, Samuel had grow use to the cold from living outside, but right now he leaned into Sammie's warmth.

He place the flowers together, interwoven into a crown. He made flower crowns with Anna so much as a child, he could make them out of any type of flower.

Was he unnatural? Yes.

Was he damned into this hell? Perhaps.

Was he possibly lonely? .....

Last night had left him in a strange, thoughtful mood. Just because he couldn't deal with people on a daily basis didn't mean Samuel was able to sit alone for long with no company or stimulation.

He'd tried that, back when he had first ran away from the hospital. He remembered that the doctors thought him dead, along with Anna. He had been stabbed but he was alive. A child running from the hospital would have ruined their name. So they proclaimed him dead, and made up reasons why a body couldn't be returned. He failed his own sister. Why would his parents want him anyway. He'd sworn to stay away from them.

To be alone, isolated, was torture. Samuel couldn't recall how long he'd held out, talking to himself for the sake of hearing a voice, plucking out hair and gnawing on his arms to remind himself that he was real, even if it was in a form of pain. Expecting isolation to cure him had been foolish.

The thoughts had stayed, had grown from whispers to howls and screams. The need to see something new, to interact, to alleviate the crushing boredom that was slowly and steadily unraveling him became an all-consuming fever. Samuel had given in.

Those first times, he'd been disgusted with himself. He took normal peoples
magic. Not that they could use it, he had justified. Yet...

He'd apologized to each person as he stole their magic from them. Each time he took magic, he took their soul. He had been without Anna's magic for so long, now he craved it. Like a drug. He felt so strong taking their magic that kept them alive, kept them human.

It wasn't until he took his tenth human soul that he found the consequences to his actions.

Each person he took magic from would turn into a monster. They always looked different, some with scales, some with fur, but always after him. No matter where he went, they followed. Possible they felt him from afar, like how he could feel magic from afar.

This craving brought him to Misaburn. Where he felt not one, not two, but three colored magic souls.

First had been Mary, who would have done anything he asked. She was so infatuated with him. But stealing her magic wasn't permanent. After that he found Frances.

He was so excited that he had two souls under his wing, that he gave up on looking for the green soul.

But things went sour, Mary and Frances did the impossible, they fused their magic. He had no choice but to steal it! They would have burnt the whole town to the ground. Just as the older souls had done to Misatora.

In the end, they both Mary and Frances became a monster, they became one monster made of two people. The strongest of monsters.

He had wanted to leave Misaburn, run away just like he had before. The guilt of what he drove them to do like slow poison dripping into him. He was alone, playing games that were getting stale.

Life wasn't fair.

Then he found Sammie, the green magic, and he suddenly found that he had another chance. A chance that he wouldn't blow. He had to be tough and keep her under his thumb.

Poor Samantha. How much had she suffered for Samuel's benefit? He had befriended her only for her magic. He'd played games with her, had tortured her to madness. Heaping every kind of cruelty onto her.

And always, always, Sammie offered forgiveness. Love. It was insane, disgusting, and maddening. No other person clung so tightly to such a feeble idea. She would hurt him, throw him down, burn him, but never kill him.

Not like the others, who tried to kill him at every turn. Samuel couldn't figure out the mechanism behind it, no matter what he tried. He couldn't find the switch. That, above all else, was what made Sammie his favorite toy. As simple as she was, she was unsolvable. Unbreakable. Endless entertainment.

She was good company, willing to talk and to listen and to just be with him in a way that only Samuel's own parents were willing to match, but without all the baggage.

Samuel would have loved Sammie, if he were able to.

He blinked. Taking a mental step back, he examined that last thought from every angle.

Well. Interesting..

"This is a little like a camping trip, don't you think?" Samuel set the flower crown on Sammie's head and started another. "My sister and I used to camp out in the backyard, but I could never last the whole night without going back to our room. Isn't that pathetic?"

The same sensation he'd had outside of Soya's yesterday (was it nostalgia?) rose up behind his eyes. If only he hadn't been strong enough to protect her..

Samuel rustled his hair. He needed to stay in the moment. That was the trick. Finishing the next flower crown of skeleton flowers, he set it aside. After thinking for a second, he put it on.

"We could build a fire tonight," he said, straightening out the crown on Sammie's head "I mean, teenagers do it all the time, so no one would think anything of the smoke. I know you like to be warm."

Finished with her breakfast, Sammie looked down almost dropping her flower crown onto the ground. She raised a shaky hand and fixed it.

His favorite wasn't nearly as much fun this morning as she'd been last night. Samuel huffed, laying his head in the space between her shoulder and neck.

"Gee, sweetheart, you're all doom and gloom today," he said, nuzzling against the side of Sammie's face. "You can talk to me, you know. I'm your friend."

Sammie turned her face away. Samuel drew back, studying her face for a moment before speaking. "Sammie, how much do you know about sex?"

There was a choking sound, she shot Samuel a skeptical glare. Samuel laughed. She pulled away from him, much to his bemusement.

"Awake now?" He said grinning. Sammie was behaving so strangely, very irritable and distant. It was a far cry from last night. Oh, well.

"I'm not talking about gross, soppy lovey dove sex," he clarified, adding an exaggerated gag for good measure. "I mean the kind that strangers have in random hotel rooms."

Slowly, Sammie turned to look at him. Her face confused and disgusted.

"Gosh, sweetheart, you're so ignorant," Samuel said, running a finger up from her knee to her waist.

Suddenly, she knew what he ment. He busted out laughing. She was too easy to fuck with. He reached over and readjusted her flower crown again.

"You've gotten stronger since we started having our little practices. And your magic is more powerful, right?"

Sammie glanced up at him, mistrustful.

"Yes," she said, quietly.

"But you have to fight for real, Sam. You have to want to harm." Samuel's hand at her hip tightening it's grip. "It's tough love!"

Sammie scowled pensively at nothing in particular. Samuel leaned on her shoulder again, knocking his flower crown askew.

"You're not where you could be, though, all things considered," Samuel said, with a sigh. "We can do better."

She tensed, but let him nuzzle her neck.

"Not that it'll be easy," Samuel said, shrugging. "People who are angry, or hurt, they can kill others like it's nothing! But a bleeding heart like you..."

Samuel sighed, let himself relax on her. Sammie was pathologically merciful. Even on the rare occasions that Samuel managed to push her beyond mercy into earnest hatred, she stepped back over the line mere seconds later. It was as though the gravitational pull of her own forgiving nature was inescapable.

A kindness singularity.

Samuel found himself desperately curious about this soft, small girl still was, she had improved. That progress had been hard-won, and Samuel wouldn't see it go to waste if he could help it. He wanted to see Sammie at her best. He wanted her to be the most powerful.

What would put her over that line for real? Samuel wanted to know.

Sammie was plainly more willing to harm than she normally was. What was the threshold they needed to cross? Were they close? What would happen if sweet, dumb Samantha finally cut loose?

Something awesome, Samuel wagered. Something new and ruinous. He wanted to see that.

Gently, he tugged Sammie to her feet. "Say, Sammie," Samuel chirped. "What do you say we go for a little walk?"

☆☆☆☆☆☆Melissa's POV☆☆☆☆☆☆

Despite the early hour, Martin's Bar & Grill was packed to capacity with Misaburn residents. Some were there to answer questions, others were forming hastily-organized search parties, although no one seemed to have much of a plan.

Judging from the snatches of conversation that carried over the general area, a good many were just there to gossip and take in the spectacle. It wasn't like anything like this happens in town regularly.

"-know what they say about the quie-"

"-always was something odd about those two, if you ask-"

"-used to watch my kids! I can't believe-"

"-and here I thought they were was in lo-"

"-derstood why she hung around such a wei-"

In the farthest corner of a corner booth, Melissa rested her head in her hands, bleary-eyed and sniffling.

She'd been up all night, helping Angela and the local police turn the town inside-out. Their search had turned up nothing. Less than nothing, in fact, as their frantic running around had disturbed any tracks or scent trail the local trackers might have been able to use.

Sammie had been gone for hours now. Every passing minute put her farther out of their reach. Angela even called the neighboring cities of Saint Leina and Berheart to report anyone of her description, should she end up over there. Nothing from them yet.

Over the course of the night, Melissa had borrowed the phone of every person she could ask, and each and every call had gone straight to voice mail. Town surveillance cameras showed no activity on the roads. They were all at a loss.

Melissa looked up into Angela's face as she sat beside her, planning the next course of action. It had been a long night. Everyone was tired, and there was still Alex to deal with, but they had to find Sammie. Neither of them knew why she'd run off now that this whole ordeal was finally over, but with the way she'd acted last night it couldn't lead anywhere good. They had to find her.

The door swung open, banging against the wall.

A hush fell over them all like a heavy blanket, silencing everyone. All gossip coming to a halt.

Silhouetted in the door frame, his eyes shining with a manic glint, was Alex. He was shivering hard.

His gaze swept over the crowd and landed on Angela and Melissa.

"Where is she?"

☆☆☆☆☆☆Samuel's POV☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Samuel moved deliberately, watchfully. There was no movement in the underbrush, and no sound. The search parties must have stopped or gone to another part of the forest.

As eager as he was to administer his test, he found he was enjoying the build-up beforehand. What was going to happen? How would the test turn out? Would Sammie pass, or fail?

By the end of the day, he would have his answer, but for now he could only wonder and wait. If it weren't for the need to be as quiet as possible, Samuel would have whistled a tune.

He fixed his flower crown, a smile on his face. His favorite toy was silent, walking along with him. Sammie trudged after him at a steady, brainless pace, like a clockwork soldier. She stared straight ahead, eyes dark and face neutral. Samuel couldn't tell whether she was lost in thought, or not thinking at all.

Either way, this new, placid attitude was fascinating. Sammie use to be a completely open book. He couldn't begin to guess what was going through that empty head of hers right now, but it wouldn't be any of the sickly sweet things that usually were in there. If she was even thinking. No backtalk, no questions asked. The combination of quiet, mysterious calm and perfect obedience was compelling in the extreme, and his hopes were rising.

Today might be the day that it finally happened. If Sammie passed this test, not only would it serve as a proof of concept for this little experiment, but it would be...oh, it would be amazing to witness! Samuel didn't care if he died after this as long as he got to see it...

A little shiver of anticipation ran down his spine, for the first time in ages.

This was going to be great.

☆☆☆☆☆☆Sammie's POV☆☆☆☆☆☆

Sammie walked with crunching footsteps through the forest. She paid no mind to her surroundings, drifting in a strange, clear-headed apathy. Samuel moved in front of her, not caring to look back. He knew she had no where else to go.

She felt the tickle on her ear, most likely the flower crown. Samuel had directed her deeper into the forest, insistent on staying far from the roads. Now and then, Samuel would tug her to turn this way or that, and Sammie wordlessly let herself. It was easier than arguing.

She didn't wonder what the test would entail. She didn't care. Whatever it was, it didn't matter. Pass or fail, it was all the same to her.

Forcefully, she reminded herself that Melissa was still at risk. For her sake, she would try.

She readjusted the flower crown. Not knowing if she could just throw it, she left it on her head. She didn't need Samuel piss off at her over a flower crown.

In a thick stand of pine trees, Samuel made a soft sound of elation and stopped, halting Sammie as well with a hand pressed firmly to her breast. Ignoring the hand on her boobs, Sammie lifted her gaze from the ground, watching Samuel for instructions.

"Stay very quiet, sweetheart," He whispered. "It's time for your test."

He stared into the clearing ahead of them, a smile curling across his face. "You're going to do great, so don't be nervous."

Sammie shrugged. She wasn't nervous, for once. Best just to get it over with.

"Now, don't speak," Samuel said, placing the tip of his finger against Sammie's mouth. With another, he gestured toward the clearing. "Do you see that girl there?"

Sammie followed the direction of his gaze. A lone girl, possibly in her teens, (maybe older Sammie sucked at guessing ages) was making designs with chalk on the floor of the church. After a moment, she recognized her as one of the group of teens who'd visit her clothing shop often. Sammie nodded.

"I want you to kill her."

The world tipped as a wave of dizziness threatened to send Sammie off her feet. Only Samuel's quick reaction kept her upright, his arms catching and supporting her. Her flower crown had fallen but she didn't dare pick it up.

Samuel sniggered, holding her closer. "Did you just swoon? Gee, Sammie, calm down."

"What...?" Her mind reeled, trying to wrap itself around the present moment in vain. "W-what did you say?"

"You heard me the first time, silly." He grinned.

The girl was still horsing around in the clearing, blissfully unaware. Sammie could faintly hear the girl singing to herself.

Samuel watched the girl as though observing a distasteful insect. "This is your test. Do this, and I'll forgive you for talking to Dr. Turner and ruining everything."

This had to be a joke. He had to be playing a sick prank on her. She knew he was sick, but this went too far! She crossed her arms.

"I...I can't! I can't do that, I won't!"

Samuel smiled and tutted at her. "This will make you so much stronger, you have no idea. Strong willed, and I'm sure you could get a boost of magic from her."

"I won't!" Sammie hissed, glaring up at Samuel. She was shaking hard. Her fear, anger and magic all twisting together. "I will never-"

"This is exactly why you're always the victim, Samantha," He spat, cutting her off. "You refuse to go far enough. All that magic! And you insist on wasting it!"

Sammie pointed at the girl, arm cutting through the air like a blade. "She is a child."

"So was I when shit happened, death isn't choosy on who it gets."

"That's not-"

"Enough." Samuel snapped, he dragged Sammie closer by the wrist. Even with his flower crown, he looked like a killer. His green eyes focused on her.

"Don't spoil this for me, Samantha. We've come too far for you to wimp out now. It's not," he said, pulling, bringing their faces close, their breathe mingling, "a big. Deal. One attack. That's all I'm asking."

Tears pricked at the corners of Sammie's eyes, and her chest grew tight.

"I don't care what you do to me," she said, swallowing down panic and magic. "I won't do it! I'm not going to murder a child just because you tell me to. I don't care!"

Samuel grinned. "You're shaking pretty hard for someone who doesn't care."

He slid the hand lower, letting it slid between her thighs. He let out a chuckle when Sammie whimpered.

"Let me put it to you this way: you're going to kill it now, or else I'm going to kill you. Right here. Right now."

Sammie took in Samuel's wide, cheerful grin. All traces of anger were gone, and somehow that was more terrifying than the threat itself.

"Do you doubt me? Do you know what I'm capable of, Sam?" Samuel leaned in even closer, bumping their foreheads together and filling field of view with his green eyes. "Can you guess?"

The hand moved, and he released her, and Sammie staggered backward.

"Remember that I'm going easy on you, Sam," Samuel said, his teeth bared at her. "Make your choice. Don't keep me waiting too long."

With that, he reached out and shoved Sammie toward the edge of the trees.

It was all she could do to stay upright, her knees ready to buck from right under her. She stumbled forward for a few yards before she had to stop, she waited for the world to stop spinning.

That morning she thought that she had sunk as low as she could go, but she'd been so wrong. It could always get worse. As long as Samuel was around it can only get worse. Life would only ever get worse.

Her life wasn't even her life anymore.

Slowly, she pressed her hand hard against her mouth, stifling the despairing moans that she couldn't hold in. There was no way out. He would never be satisfied.

Samuel would always find one more thing to take away, one more thing to ruin, one more thing to defile. It would never end.

It would never end.

She helplessly wanted it to make it end. If this was all her life would ever hold, then she should go back to Samuel and tell him to get on with it. Sammie doubted that Samuel would spare the girl after killing her, but if there was even the slightest chance, then the way forward was clear. She was innocent in all of this.

As close to the treeline as she was, the girl would surely see her if she turned around. She had to decide.

She should... She should...

No.

As hopeless as the situation seemed, Sammie didn't want to die. As tired as she was, she wasn't quite that tired yet.

There was only one option.

Sammie took a deep, shaky breath, steeling herself for what she had to do. Magic ready, but she didn't hurry.

She had no choice at all.

When she was only a few paces away, the girl finally noticed her presence, whirling to face her.

"Oh!" The girl smoothed down her dress. "Sam, you scared the hell out of me!"

She looked her up and down, her gaze lingering on Sammie's hands and face. Magic was ready, all she had to do was..

The girl giggled, nervously. "You, uh...you okay?"

"Listen to me," Sammie whispered, low and harsh. "The forest isn't safe. You need to run to town as fast as you can. Now."

The girl blinked up at her, standing up. "Uh...just take it easy, I heard that everyone was lookin.."

"Don't try to fight," Sammie urged, watching the trembling girl back away. "Just run."

Why wasn't she moving?

The girls eyes stared beyond Sammie with wide, terrified grey eyes. She didn't need to turn to know why.

Out of time.

"Don't stand there!" Sammie shouted, summoning her soul's mirror. "Go!"

Spinning on her heel, Sammie threw her huge flame bird back. Just as the first hail of purple lightning hit. Fire and lightning hit each other in a fiery blaze.

She was dimly aware of the girl's screech of alarm, and her quickly receding footsteps as she fled past he church.

Training her soul once again on Samuel, she fired. The bird pulled at her soul, bleeding her magic and energy away. The scent of scorched vegetation filled the air.

She had barrier of fire raised up before her flame bird fully dissipated. Sammie would keep him at bay for as long as she possibly could. She would attack with everything she had.

She wouldn't win, but she could buy the girl time to get away. That would have to be enough.