Now do you think you're too damn good for the killing kind?

A slightly off tune rendition of a Sting song echoes on my side of the woods. Jesus Christ, was I actually just singing to myself? I shake my head, but can't deny the uplift in my mood since my encounter with Tommy. Despite my fear and his temper...I haven't felt this content since I died. Making my way through the clearing, the cabin comes into view. Mongrel is home. Alone, for a change. Now's the best time...maybe even one of the last times I'll get to speak with him on neutral ground. I've accepted what I need to do. Mostly.

Or maybe you just know what the good father will do to you, if you don't.
On instinct, a growl slips from my lips. There she is, waiting for me on the wooden steps, blocking the front door. You bitch. A smile creeps onto the Shadow's face. Miss me, Maddie? 
"Yeah, funny enough. Where were you hiding all night?" 
My voice is rich with bravado. "Necromancers make you nervous?" 
She laughs, but I feel her anger at my audacity. Your bi-polar fuck buddy? She laughs derisively. You moron. It's not like he could doing anything to me without destroying you, too. I don't have time for this shit. I attempt to make my way up the stairs, ignoring the phantasm of myself. Her cold, unyielding hand against my chest halts my progress and I take a retreating step. And what are you up to now, little Maddie? 
"None of your fucking business!" I snap, knowing damned right my plans are laid out in the forefront of my thoughts. God damn, it.

A chit chat with your mutt? Set him to his mission and implore that he forgives the torment and torture you're planning on putting him through? Blame it all on me? Innocent little Maddie would -never- hurt her Mongwel. Ha. Oh you are fucking priceless, Maddie. 
My temper flares and I spit my next words through gritted teeth. "Stop fucking calling me that." 
The Shadow's eyebrow arches. Oh, I'm sorry...is that nickname still off limits? Old Tommy sure seemed to be getting away with it, I only figured... She smiles, the expression cruel on lips that are a mirror image to my own. Right. He's allowed to, now. Because he -cares- about you. 
I hate her laughter, it echoes through the woods and my mind. "Fuck. You." 
Good comeback, bitch. She settles onto the top step, making herself comfortable. So what's your next move? You and the Giovanni asshole have your resurrection all neatly planned out. We torture your little ex boyfriend until he finds someone to help. Then what? You manage to shake me off and come back to life? 

I hate her for bringing this wondering to mind. What does happen if I come back? What will I be? And why is Tommy so fanatical about helping me? He says he wants things back the way they were, but what does he stand to gain from all this? Ulterior motives seem to be Tommy's M.O.

I don't have to look up to know my Shadow is triumphant. I feel myself shrinking, weakening. It's a fight to keep from curling into myself. No, god damn it. I won't let you beat me down. It's not a matter of letting, Maddie. The voice now speaks clearly in the back of my mind. I own you, you're just too dumb to realize it. 
"What do you want from me?" I'll add it to my fucking list.

I want you to give in to me. All this stupid, POINTLESS worrying. This back and forth do what everyone else says for your own good bullshit. Just. Let. Go. Release the reins, Maddie. Hand them over to the one that knows you best. You're damned and you know it, so give up the fight. I know how exhausted you are. More than any of them know. More than Mongrel. More than Tommy. Her voice almost sounds kind. More than you even realize. You'll never really be free, after all. Your dear, departed Sire saw to that. The madness and the pain are beaten far too deep into you. And quite frankly, this whole "resurrection" business is a farce. Word gets out that you're fraternizing with Necromancers...your after life is going to become more hell than you can imagine. We don't like that kind of talk. Makes it seem like you're too damned good to be dead. And that's just...

With a tremendous effort comparable to a mental wrecking ball, I shut it...the voice...her up with a shout. "That's enough." I could waste the rest of my eternity listening to that shit. Which is probably the idea. I'm stronger than that. I will make myself stronger than that. There's no barricade this time as I make my way into the cabin. Mongrel is hunched over his desk as usual, the chalky scent of oil pastels permeates the air. I circle him a few times before perching on an adjacent table. I have to do what I have to do. I can't prevent his pain if it means I can't be free. But I can't do this because of someone else's plans. I'm going to do this for me. I faced a cheap, meager death and I'm still fucking here. "I'm still fucking here." With those words, spoken behind the Shroud, I manifest on Mongrel's side. Hands folded in my lap, I wait patiently for his yellow eyes to look up.