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Colette opened her eyes hesitantly and recalled events. She last remembered darkness and being swallowed by the ground. Before that, Famine just.. staring at her. She was close to her, trying to help and give the ghoul a paper, and she didn't do a thing. Didn't tell Colette about the ground. Didn't grab her. Nothing!

Stupid wench, she thought to herself. Of course she didn't do anything. That thing was just.. a mess. Hurting them, helping them -- causing more hassle than anything. She had made it so far, even managed to leap across the chasm safely, and then that happened! Raziel even risked his life to get to her, and it was all for nothing. Was he even safe now?

Was she safe now? The Reaper hadn't even a clue where she was. She knew the same feeling of dissipating from Christmas Town, and of course that one other person who just plain attacked her on school grounds, but it felt.. different.

Her eyes were actually focusing on something now, and it took her a moment to realize what it was. The island.. It was a clear, bird's eye view -- no fog in sight. She knew she shouldn't be able to view anything from such a height.

What's going on? And who are all those people?.. The cluster of beings were easily noticeable, Colette even hoped it was some sort of strange view of all the students on the island, but it was impossible. Toddlers? Toddlers didn't go to her school, she was pretty sure of that. Who were they?

She didn't understand any of this. No idea of why she was here, floating above the island; who these children were; if her friends were okay; why she was alone; or if she'd ever be able to leave. All she could do was watch.

nononononoDON'TCOMETHROUGHTHE-

With a sudden jolt of realization, Riley found herself no longer looking with horror at the incoming forms of Malodore and Jericho. She was no longer standing at the other side of that portal, trying desperately to stop them from sharing her fate.

In fact, she wasn't standing at all. Standing would require legs, and feet, and muscles, and .. she had nothing.

Nothing.

She could see, that was a surprise. It wasn't the same as natural sight, but anything was better than nothing at all. She had come to the quick realization that she had died, there on the other side of that portal - and quite honestly, she wasn't expecting to be able to see anything after death.

This was, by all standards, above her expectations.

Her focus shifted, somehow registering the sight of the island down below (was there a below? an above? what did direction matter anymore?) and the vision of students standing there, waiting in the f.. no. There was no fog, was there? Had those students been there the whole time? Her detached thoughts recalled the hallucinations, the sounds of laughter, of voices..

These voices.. in the fog.

Had there ever been any fog at all?

Riley tried to reach out with her mind, to the students below. She focused, but something was missing. Something left her suddenly feeling disconnected, and solitary. She could reach out to no one, and it filled her with sudden longing to hear another voice in her head besides her own. The connection that sustained her, and kept her from losing her mind.

The hivemind.

She tried to reach out and open herself up to her people. She tried to listen for the rush of information, the thrill of a thousand voices filling her mind at once and feeding her the solid, fulfilling pleasure of knowing she would truly never be alone in this world.

She was rewarded with silence.

She thought she could barely hear herself crying, somewhere deep down inside. Was she just fooling herself? Could she really even hear that? She lashed out in an attempt to touch Jericho's mind, hoping that in their death, they were nearby.

She felt mute padded walls of emptiness hold her in place.

She was almost hesitant to try it, but the one mind that she knew she could find anywhere had to be in the same position as her. It had to be here, somewhere, floating in the silence. She reached out, channelling every bit of energy she could into an attempt to touch Malodore's mind.

The sting of failure cracked her sanity in two.

Her senses received only one thing - the vision of those students standing on the island. Waiting. Watching. In silence.

She knew they couldn't hear her, but she'd lost the ability to cope with that fact. Eternally, she would repeat the same two words for the rest of her time in this personal hell.

Help me. Help me. Help me. Help me. Help me.

Like a yawn, the world slowly came into focus. A wide panorama spread across his consciousness and the first thought that managed to bubble up into coherency was, "Someone found my parts!"

Evidently, they hadn't.

Nothing but silence and stillness and the gentle crashes of the distant waves below... he was drifting, lost in the air, broken into so many tiny pieces no stitches could put him back together...

But he could still think.

Panic bubbled up in him, despite the openness of infinity around him he felt claustrophobic. It wasn't the fog, it was worse than the fog, everything was so clear, painfully, horrifically clear.

Was this what happened when you properly died? Died dead? Beyond undead- He had always felt he was *alive*, even if he was, more or less, bits of various corpses. They had all died. Did the minds of the people his Parts had once belonged to float about, alone in...

Alone.

No Masters. No Mistresses. No Creators. Just... him.

No one to tell him what to do next. No one to give him direction, to point to the switch that needed pulling and do so, no setting things in motion, no more motion, just the air and the clear coasts and the gentle crash of waves.

He wanted to close his eyes but he couldn't. He had no eyes to close. He wanted to scream but he couldn't. He had no mouth to open, no lungs to project. He was out of Parts.

This couldn't be forever, this couldn't... he wanted to vomit but...

But he wasn't alone, not really. Dimly, through the panic attack he could sense an odd glimmer through the island... lost souls, lost souls trapped, trapped like him to live uselessly and Masterlessly and...

It wasn't just that. He had only just discovered the concept of Friendship, of attachment to someone who WASN'T your Master... Amrita would never get that new, perfect body she wanted... Miss Morrigan would probably not be too phased by his lack of calling, he had been too afraid to message her again since the dance anyway and... Calder. Calder was dead too. Was he trapped like him in this horrific purgatory? Stuck forever with nothing but the ambiance and his own thoughts and memories? He had taught him everything he WAS missing by being what he was, and while some of it he could have done without, no one.... on one had ever... cared about his mental well being the way the Kelpie had. And now he was dead too.

He wanted to sob, but...

Scruff would be alone, no one to feed him, he hoped Barth made it back to school, SOMEONE would need to feed him... He tried desperately to force his consciousness to find him on the Island, but he was too far, there was too much, the shifting bodies of the trapped, shifting ghosts too thick. He had promised his Mistress he'd keep them safe.

His last command. And he was powerless to see it through.

He would never know if he had failed, and the uncertainty hit him like a brick to the face. If he still had a face.

Alone. Just him. And his thoughts. And the inability to do anything ever again. He had failed as an Igor, he had failed as a friend.

He had thought the code he had dutifully typed in would have lead them to salvation.

He had gotten them all killed.

He was no Igor. He didn't deserve the title.

He was nothing.

As she had gone screaming from the living world, so Belladonna entered the land of the dead.

Her voice was one long, continuous noise of anguish and pain, even though nothing hurt anymore, still the idea hurt. It hurt more than she could bear, so she just kept screaming, taking deep breaths between the yelling and would have continued shouting if she hadn't realized she wasn't going hoarse. Why, her throat didn't even hurt a little bit.
This was not good.
This was very, very bad.

Taking a deep breath, regardless if she needed it or not, Belladonna closed her eyes and let her mind reach out. It was an old technique her Grandmoonie had taught her long ago, before she had also... No.
So now, she took one more deep breath and reached out. The idea was to reach out, to find any other sort of energy, any other sort of life force. Belladonna wasn't very good at it in any way shape or form, but when she did it she always felt the resounding feeling of life.
This time she felt absolutely nothing.

In a flash her eyes were open, pink orbs darting around to her surroundings.
"It just can't be!" She said out loud, stubbornly. "My body is still here!" She shouted, hands reaching to touch her hips but only finding mist. They moved up and over all of her, even reaching down to tap her feet but only... A thin veil comprised her now.
And she heaved a sigh.
It must be true.
She was really and truly dead.

Before she was given the time to mourn, her eyes found the island. Her whole body started as she searched quickly for Daisuke, for Lilura, for Whisper and Carry and Siliya and those she had left behind. But what she saw instead only confused her. That... That couldn't be! Where was the fog? Where was that accursed substance that had poisoned her lungs and gotten into her blood and only been purged with her death?
Why was it spirits?

Spirits!
They were dead too! Oh Hecate, if this was what she thought it was... But no, no it couldn't be. If those were also the students sent to the Island like they all had, then Belladonna would be among them. And she wasn't. She was up here, floating in the sky like she was flying but without a broom or a satisfying wind in her hair or even the moon to light her path. No, it couldn't be that. And the others who had gone before her weren't there either! Ren and LW and Gabe and everyone else who had fallen to this Jack-forsaken place! Something else entirely was going on and though she was dead, Belladonna promised to keep fighting, to keep going even though she was dead.
And really, she couldn't be DEAD or else her spirit wouldn't be here, floating around like it currently was. So there WAS still hope. There was always hope.
There always had to be.

Taking another deep breath, Belladonna clicked her heels together, folded her hands under her chin in prayer and began to speak as loudly and as reverently as possible.
"Dead Lady Goddesses who have given us life and with that life, have given us death... Please be with us now in our time of need. Lady Goddesses, please help me understand what is going on. Please help the ones who still live and who still fight, for they need you more than ever. Lady Goddesses, please be with the spirit children. There are witches among them who have prayed to you and they need your blessings in their death.
Save us Lady Goddesses. Save us for we could not save ourselves.
Blessed be."

JUNKO! YOU...YOU

IDIOT!

_______________________YOU IDIOT!
__________________________________________________________________IDIOT!

___________________YOU IDIOT!

Junko's face was buried in her hands, sitting on the ground and whimpering. She was waiting for it. She'd never...died before. She was waiting. Any minute now she'd wake up from this horrid nightmare, or she'd be brought back..or..or something. She wasn't dead. She couldn't be dead. How could she die? It wasn't fair. She refused to look up from her hands, sobbing into them as hard as she would allow herself to do. The Mistress was right, she truly was an idiot. Why...why did she have to go and charge at that damn reaper. Why did she do that? She should have stayed with Tomoko and Jove to protect them. She should have protected Riley, she'd promised she'd be there for her. She promised...and look what she'd done...abandoned her, gone her separate way, and been unable to stop her from being killed. And Seiji too, she'd probably disappointed him so much; who would want to be with someone as stupid and pathetic as her anyway?

It was so quiet...even She was silent. In fact Junko couldn't even feel Her. She willed herself to move one hand and make sure She really was there, finding the outline of Her lips there, but clamped shut. Okay...that was okay. As long as She was there.

She finally opened her eyes and looked around. Alone. She was all alone. Shouldn't the others who had died be here as well? Junko whimpered and bit down on the end of her thumb, her shoulders shaking violently as she fought back another wave of sobs as hard as she could manage. She was so stupid and worthless she didn't even get to be with her friends in death. It was what she deserved. Stupid. Stupid, stupid, STUPID! It wasn't fair. It wasn't...it...just...it just wasn't fair. She wanted to be with her friends, she wanted to be back at the academy laughing and smiling and just...Jackdamnit she'd take being in detention over this. Her hands raked into her short hair and clutched the sides of her head tightly, curling up with her knees bent and her face buried into them. This wasn't what she wanted, all she wanted was to make friends and learn to control Her so she wouldn't bend to Her will like so many other futakuchi-onna. She wanted to be different, she wanted to be Junko. This was what she deserved for trying to go against the ways of her race, maybe? Was this a punishment? First her hair, then her boilfriend, then her friends...then herself.

So be it. If this was what she deserved.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." She whispered quietly into her knees over and over, seemingly never stopping. She was sorry to Seiji, she was sorry to Riley, Malodore, Mei, Sarias, Holly...Elaphe...just everyone. Even Tomoko and Jove and Sin and Yaya and all her friends she was sure were still okay.

...Were they okay?!

Junko suddenly looked up and rolled onto her hands and knees, only realizing now that she wasn't actually on the ground. She was in the air above the island. She let out a shriek and jumped up to stand and skitter back away in search of something to cling to until suddenly remembering she was already dead...was this what flying was like for a ghost? Maybe she'd ask sometime. Seiji and Kasumi could surely tell her!

Oh wait...

She sat on her knees again and stared down at the island, wiping at her eyes with the sleeve of her bloodstained kimono. If this was the island, where was all the fog that had been driving them insane? Where were the reapers? Where were her friends? She needed to know they were okay! Instead all she saw were children. So many children. Her breath caught in her throat. Were they dead as well? What were they doing here? What were they looking at? Junko watched them quietly, or as quietly as one could when they were unable to control their own tears, sniffling and hiccupping and coughing as she tried desperately to stop herself. She couldn't see what they were looking at. Were...were these children watching them? Had these been the voices she had heard? No way, that couldn't be it. What were children doing here?

Junko's hands dropped to her lap as she continued to stare down toward the island, clutching the fabric of her pajama pants. Her mother...surely she would be heartbroken when she and her father heard this news. Wait, would they really? Why would anyone mourn for her? She was a fool. A selfish, foolish little child who should have learned her place...

If she had a second chance, oh the things she would do to make up for her selfishness...

Calder was going through a lot of changes. He had experienced what it was like to be in pieces, to die, and now, as he realized he existed, to be a ghost. These were peculiar states for a monster, seeing as he wasn’t very sure about ghosts and was only just getting used to the undead. He in no way wanted to be one, but he had thought, at times as he was daydreaming, that if he died, he could be a undead or a ghost and continue on. Being permanently gone bothered him, and he had hope he would make a rather dashing undead. Something with a lot of scaring, rotting flesh and exposed organs. That was the type of undead he hoped for.

This state was not

When he came into unbeing, he noticed he could see and think, but when he thought the action to look at his hands, nothing happened. Confused, he wondered if he was missing those limbs seeing as he had been cut to pieces, but when he looked down and saw he was floating, he tried to scream. The scream of course was only a thought in his head and the world continued around silent, without the echo of his cry. Floating and not alive, he was still afraid of heights.

Floating, without a body, he floated in the quiet. He couldn’t fall to his death here. He was gone. Everything was final. Close the book on Calder’s life. Finished.

If he had ears, they would have been down. If he had actual eyes, he would have cried. He’d only been a young boil, and he was done already? He hadn’t done anything he hoped for. Being in Amityville, he was only starting to enjoy the things most kids took for granted. Going to classes. Meeting other people. Eating strange foods. He hadn’t fallen in love again yet. Hadn’t met the mate of his dreams and held hands down to the pumpkin patch. He hadn’t made his parents proud in any way. In fact, dead, gone, vanished, they would remember him as that missing son of theirs, too wild for his own good and a disgrace to their name. They’d be so disappointed in him, and if they found his parts, would probably see the marks. Such a disgrace.

He hadn’t even made many friends, if at all. Christof was a big maybe, and Barth seemed okay with him being around. He had never been truly sure of what he might have had or if, in the end, he had nothing.

Then again, if Barth and Christof were alive now, the Igor patched up or collected in haste in that tunnel, he was sure they would continue life uninterrupted. In fact, the Igor might be happier without having him around to bug him and try to punch. Calder never got to ask him how that date went.

As much as he had tried to be open, he left very little done and said, and now he was here with the big question of “Now what?” to the ability to do nothing. No breath. No time. No existence. Just thoughts and worried and no one to talk to or assure him that things would be fine. If this was the end, he had hoped it would mean he didn’t have to think of these things. If this was the end, then he had done very little.