Rain

All I can hear is the sound of my heart racing. The constant thumping against my chest as my feet slap against the cooled tar. I had to be wrong. I had to be mistaken. There was no way this feeling in my gut about what I'd seen had been true.

I shake my shoulders as I run, a shudder from the remnants of the vision that had plagued me. She wasn't dead. She just couldn't be. The visions had been wrong before.

How often though, a snide voice in my head whispers.

My breath comes out in short pants as I try my hardest to ignore that voice. Hoping that if I ignore it long enough it will go away. It came with the visions after my accident years ago. I tell it to shut up and keep running.

The darkness is suddenly pierced with flashing reds and blues. I can hear voices ahead of me, which pushes me to run faster. I push through the crowd of gawkers as they stand near the police cars, craning their necks to see if they can catch a glimpse of the action.

"Move," I yell, shoving people aside.

I recognize Detective Flynn's voice as he barks out orders to the officers holding back the crowds. His voice is strained with exhaustion. I wonder how many hours straight he's been working this time.

"Flynn," I shout, trying to get past the officers holding the crowd away from the scene.

I see his shoulders tense as he searches the crowd to find out who is calling for him. I duck under the young officer's arm, stumbling as I sprint towards Flynn. He will tell me I'm wrong, that it isn't her.

"Flynn," I yell again as the officer grabs me around the waist to hold me away from their crime scene.

I pull hard against officer's grip, trying to free myself. Flynn turns and faces me; confusion on his face as he walks towards us. The officer struggles to pull me back behind the police line.

"Let her go," Flynn tells the officer, looking at me with a mix of pity and concern.

The officer hesitates for only a moment before releasing his hold on me. I don't give him a second glance as I sprint the remaining distance to Flynn. He grabs my arms, steadying me with his shaking hands.

"I'm sorry, Kathleen, I'm so so sorry," he whispers, looking down at me.

"No," I gasp, pulling free of him.

I can't believe him until I see it for myself. Time seems to be moving slowly as I walk past him towards a group of officers working around a tarp on the ground.

In the distance thunder rumbles loudly, the only warning before the sky opens up and begins to pour. Flynn barks orders at officers to cover the scene so they don't lose evidence. I fall on my knees by the tarp, numb to pain biting into my knees for the moment.

"Please," I beg, grasping the edge of the sheet. "Please, no."

My hands tremble as I pull back the sheet slowly. Platinum blonde waves tumble from the sheet, releasing their static hold on the sheet slowly. Familiar emerald eyes stared into my matching ones blankly. Tears blur my vision as I stare at the pale, bloodstained face of my twin sister.

I cry, tears burning my cheeks as I bow my head over her. My head rests against the tarp as the rain soaks through my clothes. It's cold and helps numb the burning hatred racing through me as I cry for the loss of the girl who meant more to me than life itself.

I don't fight as someone pulls me away from the body. The body. Her body. Rayne was gone. Nothing makes sense anymore. How could this have happened? How could she be gone so abruptly, so suddenly?

"Kathleen?" Flynn says, shaking my shoulder gently.

I look at him without seeing him. It's like I'm drowning in my mind, begging to get free but I can't find the way out of my way. I stare at him as he looks at me with concern and pity.

"Kathleen?" He says again carefully as he leads me to his car.

I sit on the back seat with the door open, vaguely aware that he had put a coat over my shoulders. He kneels in front of me, watching me carefully for a reaction.

"I'm so sorry, Kat. I'm so so sorry," he says, tucking my dyed red hair behind ear slowly.

"Sorry? You're sorry? Sorry doesn't bring her back," I snap.

"No. No it doesn't, Kat, nothing can." He says, dropping any type of formality he was attempting to keep.

"Why was I given this ability if it doesn't help anyone?" I demand.

"I don't know. Maybe you weren't meant to save her. You can't save everyone," he says.

He keeps talking, trying to comfort me but I can no longer hear him. The world wavers in front of my eyes and the scene shifts abruptly. It's like a scene from a movie, how suddenly it changes and plays out in front of me.

I was running down a hallway of the old hospital, lights flickering on and off. I couldn't breathe, couldn't keep running but I had no choice, I had to run. Pain erupted in my shoulder as the all too familiar sounds of gunshots pierced the air.

"You can't run forever, girl. You won't escape this time," a gruff voice called, laughter in his harsh voice.

He was enjoying this. He was enjoying tormenting me as he tried to kill me. I looked over my shoulder and stopped running. He looked familiar, but his features kept shifting and changing, making him next to impossible to identify.

"I'll kill you like I did your sister," he snickered, raising the gun again.

I gasp, breaking out in a cold sweat. The vision probably lasted ten seconds, but it felt like I had disappeared for hours at least.

"And like I said, you can't save everyone, no matter how hard you try. That being said, I don't think we will be able to take your help on this one, just because it is your sister after all," Flynn continues, oblivious to what just happened.

"I don't think you have much of a choice," I whisper, trying to shake off the vision.

"What do you mean," he asks, looking at me.

"I think I'm next," I say, fear creeping into my voice.

"What?" He asks.

"I think I'm next," I repeat, looking up at him.

"Why do you think that?" He searches my face, trying to find answers but I have none.

"I saw the killer. He was chasing me down a hallway. I was shot," I say, trying not to look directly at him.

"That won't happen, Kat, I won't let it," he tells me, but his voice is unsure.

They always come true, the snide voice pipes in.

"Wouldn't it be a better way to keep me safe if I stuck with you on the case?" I ask as nonchalantly as I can.

"Kat," he groans.

"What? I'm serious," I say. "Think about it. If you don't take me along, I will work the case on my own, so you might as well have me come along."

"I could just have you arrested for interfering in an ongoing investigation," he says.

"You could, but I just need to be hired on the case in order to get around that. And as the victim's" I wince. "As the next of kin, I do hire myself to get to the bottom of what happened to my sister, so..." I trail off, watching his face.

A range of emotions passes across his face. I manage to identify a few; irritation, annoyance, pity, concern, nothing new when he looks at me. The one emotion that stalls me is anger. I can't tell if it is anger towards me or the fact that we both know, I am going to be shot at some point soon.

"Fine," he sighs sharply. "But we do this my way. Understood?"

I can barely contain myself. I thought it would take a lot more to convince him that he should let me work with him. I smile a little before my eyes lock on the coroner loading my sister into the back of his van. All humor leaves me as I watch my sister be driven away.

"Okay," I whisper softly.

"Okay, one more time," Flynn says, rubbing his temples as he stares at me from across his desk, the early morning sunlight pouring into his office.

"I don't see what good this does, Flynn. Seriously. I have told you everything that happened so many times that I'm pretty sure that you could repeat it verbatim." I say irritably.

"One more time," he repeats.

I blow out an irritated sigh.

"I am running down a hallway of the old hospital. I just knew I had to run, nothing else but run. Then the sound of a gunshot and pain. Lots of pain," I say with a shudder.

"And then?" he prompts, looking down at his notes.

"He says 'You can't run forever, girl. You won't escape this time.' I looked over my shoulder and stopped running. He looked familiar but not enough that I could identify him." I say.

"And then he tells you he will kill you like he killed your sister," Flynn says gently.

"Yes," I answer, though I know he doesn't need confirmation.

"Can you remember anything else? What he looked like? Other than tall and white?" he asks for the hundredth time.

"That's all I remember," I say with a sigh.

"Okay," he says.

"Okay?" I ask.

I stare at him with a mix of confusion and irritation, though I'm not sure which I am more of. I am saved from my inner conflict by Doctor Dove walking up to us, his dark hair hanging in front of his eyes always makes me wonder how he can see anything.

"We got the autopsy on Rayne Ryder back, Detective. The COD was the gunshot wound to her chest. Though it looks like the killer shot her in the knees so she couldn't run away first. The autopsy showed that the other gunshot wounds were ante-mortem." He spoke quickly, eyes on the chart in front of him.

I was invisible, no more a worry than a chair in Flynn's office as far as Doctor Dove was concerned. Pain squeeze my heart in a vice, tears well in my eyes as I picture my sister lying on the cold slab in the medical examiner's office.

"Mitch," Flynn starts, his eyes darting to me with concern.

"Evidence shows that he made it slow, like he had a personal grudge against her. I sent some samples to the lab, and we may have found DNA on her body," Doctor Dove continues, not seeming to notice that Flynn had spoken.

"Doctor Dove," Flynn snaps, anger darkening his voice.

Doctor Dove looks up from his notes, his eyes locking on me for a moment before the color leaves his face. He looks from me to Flynn then back again, worry written on his face.

"Leave," Flynn says through grit teeth.

"I-I'm so terribly sorry, Miss Ryder. I didn't see you there. I am so sorry about your loss," Doctor Dove says quickly, stumbling over his words slightly.

"It's fine, Doctor," I whisper, barely able to raise my voice.

"Doctor Dove. Please leave," Flynn repeats.

"R-Right. Just one thing. We didn't recover any bullets from the body," Doctor Dove says quickly.

"Wait, not one?" I ask, confusion swimming through me.

"No. They all went straight through or he," Doctor Dove stops, glancing at Flynn.

Flynn glowers silently at Doctor Dove, though I can see curiosity burning in his eyes. I blow out a sigh and get up from the chair.

"I have a meeting with the funeral home," I lie. "I have one to plan now."

I try to sound nonchalant but I see both men flinch and refuse to meet my gaze. I sigh again and turn to leave.

"Kathleen, please stay out of trouble. I'll call you after I talk to Liz and fill you in," Flynn says.

"Trouble? Me? I always stay out of trouble," I say with a forced laugh before fleeing from his office.

I walk down the street towards the funeral home, not thinking about where I'm going. I wasn't thinking anything more than putting one foot in front of the other, one step at a time.

My heart pounds in my chest as I continue walking, closing my eyes and trusting my gut on where to go. It wasn't fair. It just wasn't fair that she had to be taken. What did the killer mean when he said I wouldn't escape again?

I freeze, my heart thundering in my chest. I open my eyes and stare at the old hospital in front of me. It had been closed down for years, I doubt it even still had electricity in there.

Afraid to think the truth? The voice asks suddenly, startling me.

"What truth," I ask aloud in frustration.

That the killer was after you, not her, it snickers.

"What do you know," I demand, terror grasping me tightly.

I know what you know. That the killer was after you, not her. And that your Contract is almost up. How long is it? A few weeks? A few days? It laughs darkly.

I shiver, holding myself tightly. One day. That's how long I had left before they came. Before I left this world. Was it really my fault she was dead? Did they come early? They have been known to do that from time to time.

I swallow hard and turn away from the rusting gates. My eyes lock onto a single rose tied to the frame with my name on a petal. They were here for me. If I had to die then I would go out on my terms.

I turn away from the flower and walk across the street, ignoring the growing sense of foreboding that is unraveling in my stomach.

I sit on the floor of my flat and stare at the front door, gun in my hand, waiting for them to try to come for me. I refuse to go down without a fight, no matter what.

Flynn's number flashes on my cell phone for the hundredth time in the past hour, but again I just watch it fade away as he is sent to voicemail. He knows where my apartment is, I'm mildly surprised that he hasn't come in person yet.

I should probably turn my phone off, some part of me reasons but instead I just watch it from the corner of my eye as it lights up yet again. I pick up the bottle of Jack sitting beside me and drink it in one last gulp. Liquid courage, isn't that what it's called? I could use some courage.

I try not to think about the letters I have written and sealed on my desk. Each with another person's name written neatly on it. Each a form of apology for that person. I suppose that Rayne's no longer matters but I don't throw it away.

Somewhere in the flat I can hear the soft ticking of my clock. It's almost therapeutic in comparison to the sharp sounds of my phone buzzing against the hardwood floor as Flynn tries yet again to call me. Maybe I should answer it, but I couldn't face him.

Answer it. It could be important, the voice snickers.

Nausea coils in the pit of my stomach as I sit there and look at my phone. The alcohol is making everything look slightly fuzzy, like it has a thin layer of moss on it. I manage to grab my phone after the third attempt and hold it to my ear.

"'Lo?" I ask, my voice thick with the alcohol.

"Are you drinking?" Flynn asks after a moment's hesitation.

"What does it matter?" I slur.

"Jesus Christ Kathleen," he sighs.

"Did you call to judge me or did you have a reason?" I demand, my cheeks heating up.

"Evidence points to the killer hiding out at the Old Hospital. I was going to have you come with but seeing as you're busy, I'll see you afterwords." He says, hanging up before I can muster up a response.

No. I can't be the cause of his death too. I stagger to my feet and start walking out the door without a second thought. I stumble down the street towards the old hospital, afraid of what I was going to find.

I tug on the front gate of the old hospital, barely sparing a glance at Flynn's car parked nearby. I slip through the small gap that formed between the gates. The rusted metal slices into my arm. It hurts in a tingling way, but I ignore it as I hurry to the open front door.

"Flynn," I yell, not caring if anyone else hears me.

If they do hear me, it will draw them away from Flynn and keep him safe.

"Flynn," I yell again, running down the hallways.

You're too late, the voice says cheerfully.

I run faster down the hallway, lights flickering in an all too familiar way. It was happening. I couldn't breathe, in my drunken state I couldn't keep running, but I had no choice, I had to run, I had to find Flynn. No amount of visions or remembering could prepare me for seeing him, the reaper, coming towards me with a gun drawn.

"You can't run forever, girl. You won't escape this time," a gruff voice calls, laughter in his harsh voice.

"I didn't escape last time," I mutter to myself. I refused to look behind me.

No amount of preparation was enough to prepare me for the pain that erupted in my shoulder as the gun sounded. It was hot as fire but cold at the same time. I tried to keep running but it was harder now with the pain.

"I'll kill you like I did your sister," he snickers.

I know he is raising his gun again, but I can't stop myself from turning to look at him. The gun goes off again, pain erupting in my chest and I fall. The sound of more gunshots fill the air, and I see Flynn kneeling beside me, his face a mask of absolute terror.

"Kathleen? Kathleen? You idiot! What were you thinking?" Flynn asks me, pressing his jacket against my chest.

I hadn't seen him take it off. Strange. I feel as if I am moving through syrup. It's so hard to keep my eyes open, to think of anything besides the pain racing through me. Flynn's hand is on my cheek, I can see his lips moving but I can't hear a sound.

Behind him stands the man who had given me the gift in the first place. I want to smack him in his smug face as he smiles down at me. I look to Flynn, not wanting the last person I see in this life time to be that smug bastard. Flynn is yelling, his face white with fear. He shouldn't be afraid.

The last thing I see before the world disappears is Flynn's tear stained face as he whispers "I'm sorry." Then there is nothing.

I open my eyes in a sterile room, the white walls and white lights blinding me as I lie strapped to the steel table, the same one I was strapped to when I arrived. I look over to where Rayne had been and find her staring back, her eyes cold and lifeless.

Tears race down my cheeks as I turn away. She's gone. Nothing changed about that.

"Ready to go back under?" He asks. The smug bastard.

I know I don't have a choice so I just glare at him. It wasn't supposed to be like this. It was supposed to be simple. Test out some new fancy drug, get a grand, and finally move away from this shit hole town. But no. Out of all the possible doctors we could have gone to, we found the one psycho.

I pull against the restraints uselessly as he walks towards me with his syringe. My only hope this time when I am "reborn" that I can wake my mind up before he pulls me back. I close my eyes as the familiar fire races through my veins.

But I won't scream. Not this time. No I won't give him the satisfaction. Instead, I will plan a way to break free of this hell. I'm getting stronger, and I know it. Soon I will repay his actions and make him suffer like he had made us.

Soon.

I promise, Detective Flynn.

I will destroy you.