"There's an opposite to déjà vu. They call it jamais vu. It's when you meet the same people or visit places, again and again, but each time is the first. Everybody is always a stranger. Nothing is ever familiar."

-Chuck Palahniuk, Choke

"Who are you?" I asked quietly.

He pulled back from our embrace, holding me at arms length. The face looking back at me was that of a total stranger.

His answering smile was menacing. "I'm hurt. You don't recognize me, Catarina?" His words were a low purr; his accent was Russian.

"That's not my name" was all I managed to say to him. He intimidated me. I tried to pull away but his gaze held me there. I couldn't move a muscle.

"Of course, it is." The way he was staring kind of freaked me out. He gave me the same look that my cat had given me earlier. Ya know, when I had been a mouse.

This man who dwarfed me had little resemblance to William. He had a strong, angular jaw and chestnut hair. His brooding ochre eyes were framed by thick, serious brows. He reached down to rub his stubble across my cheek, trailing his jawline along mine until his lips were next to my ear. He smelled of bergamot and earth. My breath caught in my throat.

"I'm coming for you, kiska." He pulled away again, then reached out his arm to brush away some runaway hairs from my face. He had a tattoo nearly identical to the one I had seen on William's arm, only the band around the hilt of the sword was tattered and stained with blood and the eye of Horus was closed.

A sense of dread radiated over my whole body in waves. The sinister stranger grabbed me by the chin and kissed me on the mouth.

Rough hands pushed me down but all I could feel were my lips stinging from the kiss.

My body hit the floor.

My head should have crashed into the counter but it didn't. The floor should have been cold and hard but it wasn't. Instead, it was soft and damp. A breeze loosed some hair free from where it was fastened. I pulled myself up off the ground to discover that I was back outside by the pond.

It took me several moments to gain my bearings. When I did, I rushed over to my new neighbor's house. I didn't know what else to do. He said he was there if I needed him...but was that even real? Did that conversation even happen?

My grip on reality was lessening. I regretted ever thinking ill of Evangeline. This had to be some kind of sick karmic punishment for my thoughts.

After a moment of hesitation, I banged on the door, which creaked open shortly thereafter. No one greeted me but I stepped inside anyway. Upon entering, I was met with an eerily familiar corridor. I spun around but it was too late. The door had disappeared.

Drip, drip, drip. I reached towards one of the orbs of light along the wall but my arm was transparent. The lights gave me a path to follow so I continued onward, down the creepy, leaky hall of stone.

The lights led downward. The further down I went, the dimmer they became but my steps did not falter. I needed to know what was down there so I fought back my fear.

Finally, I reached a point in the hall where the stone made way for barred doors on either side. I'd found the cells of the dungeon. On the very first cell to the left, there was a man collapsed on the floor. His once coiffed curls were grown out, as was his now bearded face. Cuts, scrapes, and bruises covered his body. His dark tunic was ripped and ruined; so were his breeches. His feet were wrapped in bandages.

Though barely recognizable in this condition, I knew it was him. "William!" I fell through the bars and landed on my knees. Hope lifted his head, however weakly. "Cat?"

"Don't worry, I'm here." I didn't know what to do but I had to do something.

His humorless laugh soon became a fit of coughs. His voice was scratchy when he replied, "No, you're not really here." He glanced around but his eyes did not make contact with me.

"I am right in front of you, Will." He responded by closing his eyes.

Several moments passed before he said anything. "No, you're not. But it's all right." His breathing was shallow and ragged. "I'm sorry. I failed you."

I hadn't the faintest idea what he meant by that but I didn't think to ask. Instead, I said, "No, you didn't. It's okay. It's going to be okay."

"Riona—" it was getting more difficult for him to speak, but he kept trying anyway— "Find Acantha, the dark one. She has..." His voice became weaker until he just lost consciousness altogether. His breath still came slowly and softly, so he was alive. She has WHAT?

In my quest for answers, I only collected more questions. The dark one? There's only one person that I know of who fits that description but her sister had called her by a different name.

What had she said? 'Don't call me by that nickname'? So, Acantha was her real name?

Shortly after his collapse, I left the cell, since sitting beside him in this ghostly form did neither of us any good.

So, down had led me to the cells. Where would up take me? I went back the way I came, past where I entered this place and beyond.

The slope evened out and the floor flattened. There were several heavy wooden doors on either side of the hall. In front of me was a staircase. I decided to climb the stairs. At the top of the spiraling stairs was another wooden door. Instinctively, I grabbed for the handle but my hand passed through it.

Right. Ghost-mode.

Instead, I walked through the door. This room was huge. In the middle of the room was a round, tiered platform. From the center tier rose a pillar with a stone slab on top, on which rested a square pan filled with water. Acantha stood with hands raised, palms flat, over the water. Her long ebony dress spilled fabric around the base of the pillar.

Her face jerked up at the sound of the door that opened behind me. For a moment, I thought she had seen me, which caused me to panic. She was not looking at me, but at a man in tattered clothes who had been pushed through the door. He fell forward from the impact. The man had a burlap sack over his head.

The man who shoved him had to be the biggest person I'd ever seen. He was beefy and ugly, with burns on his face. He was wearing a sleeveless tunic made of scales and matching chausses over his trousers. Black leather bracers protected his forearms and he wore boots to match them. He had a war hammer slung across his back. Somehow I doubted he would even need a weapon to take someone down.

I came through that door but I had not seen these men. Where had they come from? One of the doors in the hall? That had to be it. I doubt I would miss Macho Guy over here.

The man on the ground grunted. Macho pulled off his sack. He had no face. His skin was a smooth slate with no features. What the... The choking fog clouded my vision and ice water penetrated my ears. No! Not this again!

Though I fought against it, nothing could stop it from coming. My senses succumbed to the overwhelming pain of the water filling up my orifices. My screams did not come; they were drowned in the water choking me. Everything went black though the hurt kept on. After what felt like an eternity of struggle and pain, the blackness beckoned me.

This time, I was able to resist it. Someone shook me. Someone called out to me.

"Catriona!" That voice. Ah, it was out of focus. Arms encircled me. Everywhere his body touched was hot, too hot. My skin felt enflamed where the ice water drowned me. "Snap out of it!" He ordered.

My eyes fluttered open. If it weren't for him, I would have collapsed onto the floor. The floor...slowly came into focus. It was a gorgeous mahogany hardwood. My gaze roamed up and into his baby blues. I almost smiled but couldn't quite manage it.

He scooped me up into his arms and brought me into the livingroom, then lowered me onto a sleek leather couch. "I'll be right back."

"No, don't leave!" I croaked.

His thumb came down to rest upon my bottom lip. The world was sideways. My head rested on the arm of the couch. I tried to raise up but my head hurt too much at the effort so I stayed put. "Stay. I need to get you something for your ears."

It took me a moment to comprehend. I heard him open and close a cabinet, run the faucet, then set the timer on the microwave, and shut its door to wait. Then, I understood. He was warming a rag for my ears. They were bleeding again.

He came back shortly after with a bottle and the rag. He poured a holistic blend into one ear and pressed the warm, wet rag against it. He cradled my head and drained each ear one at a time and wiped away the blood. In my weakened state, I let him man handle me. "This is all escalating quickly," he stated matter-of-factly.

"What is?" I started to sound semi-normal after clearing my throat.

He dodged my question...again. "I can't really answer that."

My glare was aimed right at him but it must have missed its target because he didn't look very intimidated. Then again, I was lying helpless on his lap at this point. "Is that part of you orders?"

He looked surprised. "How do you know about that?" He paused momentarily but realization soon played across his face. "Oh, of course."

"I thought you said that nothing I said would surprise you." I taunted.

He smiled brightly. "Did I now? Well, it may take me off guard momentarily but I'm prepared for it." He stroked my cheek lightly. "What else did I say?"

"You don't know?" If we never talked the first time, were we even interacting now? Was any of this real? Hopefully, I'd wake up and this would all just be a really bad dream.

"Humor me." His hand moved from my cheek to my hair. I allowed the contact from this stranger, for now.

"Well, you said you were sorry that I had to go through everything alone but that you would be right here for me. You told me to trust you but that you couldn't tell me what is happening to me because of some stupid command."

He scoffed. "You're paraphrasing, of course."

"Will you let me talk?" My tone sounded super annoyed.

He looked apologetic and waved his hand, signaling for me to continue, then went back to stroking my hair. I almost felt bad for acting like a brat but I didn't quite have the energy for all that.

"I figured out that you were the one to bring me the amulet and you told me to always wear it." My hand rose to clasp it. He nodded like this all made perfect sense to him. That made one of us. "Then, I went elsewhere and when I came back, you turned into someone else."

His hand froze. "Who?" He looked like he already knew.

"He didn't tell me his name but he called me Catarina." His jaw clenched. "Who is he?" I demanded but he said nothing.

Laying in the lap of someone who wasn't being honest with me suddenly seemed too intimate, so I pushed back his hand and sat up. My head pounded in the process but I couldn't stay there any longer. "Who is he?"

"Dammit, Cat. I can't say anything, remember?"

I deliberated over his reactions to this craziness. "So, everything you said before was true?"

He inclined his head. "Seems that way."

"Even though you don't remember saying it?" Seemed legit.

He nodded. None of this made a lick of sense.

I threw my hands up in frustration. "How is that possible. Or can you not answer that either?"

He made the motion of zipping his lips shut and throwing away the key. "Well, shit balls...why can't you tell me?"

He looked away.

Right. I might have left (since this conversation seemed to be going nowhere) but I was too afraid to go back outside.

"It'll all make sense soon," was all he could come up with to comfort me. Needless to say, it didn't work. I sat there, trying to take it all in. Was this still the same day? I kept falling from one reality to another. Everything had gone topsy turvy.

"They're going to lock me up in a psych ward, aren't they?" Dread radiated from my head down to my toes at the realization.

He shook his head. "No, I won't let that happen." I shuddered at the thought of being trapped in a cage.

"Will, I'm losing it. I thought...I turned into a mouse." His eyes widened at my admission. "Then, I was somewhere else entirely and you were in bad shape...you were in the..." He put his finger over my lips to shush me.

"Be careful what you tell me about myself," he warned.

Though it made little sense, I heeded his warning since he seemed confident that I shouldn't overshare. "I saw Acantha. She has prisoners. One was wearing a burlap sack over his head. When they took it off of him, I couldn't see his face. That's when the darkness crept in and I drowned in ice. It feels...important somehow." I sounded so stupid.

He pulled me back into a hug to comfort me. "You will figure this out. You got this."

"I hope your secrets are worth it," I frowned when I voiced my thoughts aloud.

He sighed. "I hope so, too."