In the distance, the outline of a dog trotted down a narrow sand path, on a dune surrounded by tall beach grass. The sun beamed so brightly behind it, all I could see was a silhouette.

From where I was standing, I could hear waves lapping somewhere nearby. The sound should have been comforting, yet a feeling of uneasiness spread over me. I glanced around to see where the sound was coming from. There was nothing but stretches of sand dunes and swaying beach grass as far as the eye could see. When my eyes rested back on the dog, it was no longer walking, but standing several feet away from me in a herding stance, crouched down low, studying me.

I stood staring cautiously, my eyes narrowed to slits in the blazing sun, trying to make out its face, waiting for it to make a move. Then suddenly, without so much as a flinch, the dog appeared right next to me. Barnabas.

His eyes pierced mine, desperately trying to tell me something, but projecting no words that I could understand. Then, a image shot out from his mind. I saw the shadow of a man. His head was down and he was carrying a baseball bat, it dangled loosely from his hand.

I could feel an evil presence permeating around him—thick and heavy—making it hard to breath. Just as he was about to raise his head, the image vanished and Barnabas stood in front of me once again, his eyes filled with sadness.

A trickle of scarlet blood ran down his forehead between his eyes. I yelped and scrambled backwards, peddling in the sand beneath my feet.

Help my girl. Save her from the bad one.

Barnabas gazed one last time into my eyes, as if to make sure I'd gotten the message. He tilted his head and whimpered softly. Then, he turned and lept into the sun beams behind him. They swallowed him up, leaving nothing but endless tall grass and lapping waves.

Lapping waves rocking me back and forth gently—then not so gently.

Wake up! Wake up!

Something firm and wet nudged me.

Wake up, Pickle.

I opened my eyes. Winnie was standing over me, head tilted down, her blue eyes filled with worry.

Something's happened outside.

I scrambled to all fours, shaking off the cedar shavings that had collected on my fur.

I was dreaming of Barnabas, he told me to help Winter. I projected groggily.

Winnie ignored me and turned towards the window.

Listen.

A girl was sobbing outside. I stiffened, my ears pressing forward, it had to be Winter. Panicked, I hoisted myself onto the bench. Winnie scrambled up after me.  I peered into the blackness outside, all I could see were shadows huddled together.

Hank and Boon,  both curled in tight balls on the floor below us,  raised their ears at the ruckus outside, then pulled themselves up, heads cocked to the side.  An unsure growl rumbled out of Hank's lips. Boon whined nervously. Dead to it all, my dog mother slept contentedly, sprawled out on the other side of the room, her tongue smacking loudly.

From the sound of the footsteps, several people had gathered outside.

"It was José!" Lance's voice cut through the window, laced with murderous rage. "That asshole! He left here all pissed off earlier. He must've come back! I'm gonna kill him, I—."

"You can't be sure it was him," Mr. Rose interrupted." Nobody saw anything. Winter didn't see who it was. Put the keys down, you aren't goin' anywhere. I called the police, let them investigate before you start jumping to conclusions."

My ears honed in to footsteps on the floor above. I crouched down, a growl readied on my lips.  A few seconds later, the side refuge door cranked open.

"Winter, what's going on?" The sound of my own voice cut into the night, sending chills down my spine. I was still coming to terms with the presence of myself.

"Someone killed Barnabas!" Winter wailed.

"Killed him trying to get to Winter," Lance put in sharply.

"Barnabas saved me!" Winter's voice was muffled. "Oh god! He died saving me!"

"Who did it Winter? Did you see anything?" Sheldon's voice was seething with anger. "It happened out here?"

"The police are on their way over," her father interrupted. "She doesn't know who it was, and she was coming to see you."

The last part was tinged with a bit of blame directed towards Sheldon. There was a long pause, only filled with Winter's ragged breaths.

Tires sounded on the gravel, and the hum of an engine hit my ears. A streak of flashing lights shot through the window. I sat back on my haunches, a small wave of relief washing through me. The police had arrived, everything would be alright. Winter would be safe for now.

But—everything was not alright.  No—something was still very wrong. More wrong than what was playing out in front of me at that moment.

It was all so wrong. I was reliving my past—at least that's what I'd assumed. So why didn't I remember this happening at all? How could I not remember something like this?

Suddenly keenly aware of her stare, I turned to see Winnie's eyes were locked on me, searching my thoughts.

You don't remember.

It was more a statement than question. Frustrated, I put my head down and shook it slowly. Nothing. Not a thing.

She tilted her head slightly.

This will be more difficult then, but I will help you.

My head shot up. Hold on a second—who are you? 

It was clear she was definitely not Winnie, the sweet but numb-brained pup I'd shared a tit with.

She gave me a wry look, as if to say I was extremely dimwitted for not asking that question sooner. I'm Aria, whose voice you heard in the darkness after your death.

To prove her point, she rose up and stood on two feet, sweeping into a low bow with one paw behind her back. It looked utterly hilarious and a little frightening at the same time.

I huffed, my ears lowering. How? You can't just steal a body whenever you want! What did you do with the real Winnie?

She jumped down from the bench onto all fours. Her circus act had attracted the curious stares of Hank and Boon. She yawned and shuffled some cedar chips into a pile with her paw.

Winnie's spirit is having the time of her life in a dream state. Anything she imagines is her reality. I'm sure she's chasing sheep and chewing big fat bones as we speak. When I leave, she'll return. No harm will come to her.

I paced the room, my mind turning back to what was happening outside. It had gotten quiet, they must have all gone inside the house. Boon and Hank scrambled to their feet and started following behind me, shooting Winnie fearful glances. I spun around, glaring.

Alright. You've had your laughs. This whole thing must be hilarious to you. Turn a man into a dog, set him back into his past—watch what happens. Is this what spirits do for fun? Why me!?

I paused, anger causing a rush of blood to my head. Who killed Barnabas? And why don't I have one single memory of that happening in my former life? Was it José? My eyes bore into hers. How can I protect Winter?

Winnie placed a small white paw on my shoulder, abruptly putting an end to my pacing. Boon and Hank collided into each other behind me, letting out simultaneous yelps. Leaning over, she touched her pink nose to mine. Her blue eyes were captivating, making my head swirl, throwing me off kilter. The anger drained from my body.

Patience, she projected evenly, licking my nose. It's necessary that you find these things out on  your own. But, I'll tell you this. When I sent your spirit back down to earth, it was necessary for me to separate good from bad—meaning your good side's memories have stayed with you—but your bad ones have been lost.

I pulled back, growling in frustration. Well that is extremely inconvenient! So then, I'm screwed. That's what you're really telling me!

I can guide you...and show you what you need to see. Her eyes shown brightly. We'll start tomorrow morning.

***

Winter sat on the front porch swing, her legs curled up underneath her. A steady breeze rocked her gently, but it had little effect on the turmoil in her mind. The horror of the night flashed through her head, replaying over and over again.

The local officer had come and taken a report; his large white mustache moving up and down as he rambled on and on about how the city's violence was spreading too close to the country. He'd stared at her quizzically as she'd forced herself to recount the painful story, his eyes squinting as he scrawled on a pad of paper. 

He'd patrolled the refuge grounds with his flash light and baton, but found nothing of importance. In the end, it was decided that he would track José down and bring him in for questioning. They'd decided to call it a night shortly after.

The rumble of the old pick up truck drew her out of her thoughts. Her vision blurred with tears as she watched her father and Lance solemnly set out. She knew Barnabas' body was resting in the bed of the truck. At her request, they were burying him on top of the hill near the horse fields, under her favorite oak tree.

It was a spot where she and Barnabas spent many days while she was a little girl, usually playing out some imaginary fantasy where Barnabas was forced to wear whatever costume suited the theme. Her father's plaid shirt, her mother's Sunday dress, a baby bonnet... she smiled sadly. Barnabas would sit still and wear whatever she forced on him.

She couldn't work up the nerve to go with them to bury him, but she insisted they do it that night. She couldn't bear to have his body sit until morning all alone in the cold.

Sheldon stepped around the corner, hands in his pockets. He cleared his throat as he came to stand next to her, his eyes following hers. It was reaching one o'clock in the morning.

The sound of the truck's diesel motor faded as it climbed the hill. A gentle breeze swept her hair around her face and set the wind chimes hanging from the gutter ringing melodically. The porch light cast a soft glow on them that provided some peacefulness in the midst of all the turmoil that had taken place that night. Suddenly, Winter felt his eyes on her. She turned, her cheeks tingling with warmth.

"Why were you coming to see me?" Sheldon broke the silence, giving her a sideways glance.

Winter's stomach tightened. She'd forgotten about that whole thing.

"I..." Embarrassed, she looked away.

They both fell silent for several minutes. The pick up truck's motor shut off in the distance.

"Maybe you can tell me...another time," he said simply.

Winter smiled. "Want to sit next to me?"

"Sure." Sheldon sat down on the swing his hands in his pockets.

Winter took a jittery breath. "I lost my best friend tonight." She brushed the tears from her eyes.

Sheldon leaned over and put his arm around her. "It sucks to lose people—well—things we love."

Winter looked up at him, her eyes filled with tears, heart pounding. "Yes, it does."

She laid her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes.

Hello again...this story gets a little sad at times. Feel free to cry, I won't tell...By the way, make sure to check out Black Vein by icytundra21 it's an incredible story about a guy who's cursed with super strength triggered by emotion. Can he control it and use it for good?Lots of action laced with romance. See you next chapter!