Part 1

I couldn't help but wonder, as Liam continued to drift his widened eyes from one of us to the next, if this was the same kid I had known for a few years now, or if Lilian had only recently claimed his image for herself. That inner debate was the least of my concerns at the time; however, as the rage behind his gaze seemed to be shining through so much more intensely as he blinked between us.

Even Gilroy; the one who was supposed to be the responsible adult, taking care of us kids, was just staring on with his lower lip quivering. I wanted to call out to him and demand that he take control of this situation, but as I attempted to form words, I could barely manage to do so much as squeak.

"I know you're here, Barnaby," Liam said, effectively snapping my attention away from the dumbfounded scout leader, "I can smell you! Just show yourself and nobody else needs to get hurt."

"What the hell, Liam?" Ian said, getting to his feet, "you freaked us all out, okay!? You don't gotta keep up the act."

"Yeah," John added, "it was a cool story and all, but…"

"SHUT UP!" Liam barked, staring knives at those I thought to be his friends, "I know that neither of you is him, but I swear I will gut you both if he doesn't man up and face what's coming to him!"

With that, while my eyes darted from the boy I thought I knew, to the two whose expressions quickly transitioned from agitated to stunned, the scuffling of feet broke me from attempting to wrap my mind around everything. Whether it was the fury behind Liam's words that sent everyone running in varying directions or that hateful malice behind his gaze, I couldn't say, but when he screamed out in anguish after the others scattered, I felt inspired to do the same.

As I broke through the tree line, paying little attention to which direction anyone else was headed, I heard the furious yell coming from behind; back where we left that bonfire crackling. I still wouldn't look back, even when the scampering footfalls around me grew more muffled, signaling that I was likely alone on my chosen path of retreat.

When a blood-curdling squeal reached my ears, I had to assume that my friend had caught up to at least one of the fleeing children. As much as I hated the idea of any of us ending up bloody upon the dried, autumn leaves, I couldn't help but hope that the one he found was the one he sought. I felt guilty for even wishing for something like that, but one body left in the wake of all of this was a far better outcome than all of us; that's what I told myself anyway.

Regardless of how that squeal from somewhere to my left practically drained the strength from my legs, I still pushed on through the pain in my side and the burning in my lungs. I almost considered stopping for a moment to catch my breath, but two more agonized wails in quick succession convinced me I could not risk it. While those swiftly silenced howls seemed further off than the one before, I had to find a place to hide if I hoped to survive this; something that was no simple task with how dark my surroundings were.

Finally, having no hope of resisting my weakening extremities giving out, I slid to the ground, tearing my arm across a broken tree branch in the process. I wanted to curse aloud when the jagged wood split my flesh, but I slapped my hand to my mouth before my skidding across the leaves came to a halt.

As I lay there, gripping one hand around my leaking wound and the other over my mouth, biting down to keep from screaming out from the pain and fear, I could make out another sound over that of my quickly-paced heartbeat. The feet crunching across the dried leaves belonged to more than one person, but I couldn't tell if they ran side by side or if one was chasing the other.

With them drawing closer by the second, I could only hope they would not make out the sounds of my burying myself beneath the leaves over their own likely erratic pulse and steps. They were close enough to touch moments later, each of the four feet stopping only a yard or so from where I lay, attempting to keep my shivering from exposing me.

The moon shone brightly from above, illuminating my surroundings enough to make out the shoes as I peered through my poorly constructed cocoon, but I could only hope it wasn't bright enough for them to see me. While the two heaved, seemingly attempting to collect their breath, I was far too scared to risk revealing myself, even if they were likely just as innocent as I was in all of this.

"I think…he got...Reggie," one of them said, still gasping between words.

"John too," the other replied, sounding equally as winded.

I clenched my jaw, feeling a spike run through my chest when they mentioned John, but I hoped that they may simply be mistaken given the circumstances. With how exhausted the two sounded, I couldn't pinpoint the voices, though they were both familiar. Either way, that wasn't enough for me to know if I could trust them.

I had spoken to all of the guys at one point or another, but my friends were the only ones I had any interest in spending time with. I was never exactly a social butterfly, even before all of this, but I couldn't reveal myself until I knew for sure if these two were friends or just some of the other guys who may be quick to toss me to the wolves to make a break for it if it came down to that.

"I told you Liam had been acting funny," the more familiar-sounding voice spoke, now that the wheezing had calmed.

"So what!?" Malcolm said in that same annoyed tone he would get when feeling argumentative, "You tryin' to claim you knew this shit was comin'?"

"Dude, I'm just sayin' I knew somethin' was off with him. Ain't no way anyone coulda called this!"

I let out a shaky and relieved breath when I realized the other voice belonged to Ian. Suddenly feeling almost desperate to share the company of friends, I grew more aware of how ridiculous I had been acting. I almost wished I could just slink away unnoticed, to show up on foot, claiming that I couldn't believe I found them. That would likely have been far less embarrassing than the way things went.

"Um, don't freak out, guys," I said, pushing a hand through my blanket of leaves like a newly reincarnated member of the undead, breaking free of its coffin.

"What the..!?" both voices said, combined with a few more colorful words.

"It's ok," I said, finally sitting up straight before pushing up from the ground, "it's me," I chuckled, feeling my face flush.

"Holy..! You scared the shit outta me," Ian said, holding a hand out to help me up.

Keeping my voice low, I explained to them somewhat of my motivations behind smuggling myself away beneath the leaves; something that made us all laugh a bit, though mine were not quite genuine, being still a bit awkward and ashamed.

When we calmed back down to something more somber, Malcolm told us what he'd witnessed. John, it would seem, was indeed dead, or at least in pretty rough shape. From what he saw as he ducked behind a thick tree when Liam came leaping out of nowhere, our friend didn't have a chance to avoid the teeth chomping into his neck.

"I just knew I was screwed when he was done with him," Malcolm said, staring down at his feet, "I stayed tucked behind that tree, feelin' like I was gonna puke. I just knew he was comin' for me when I heard him stompin' closer, but when someone yelled from a ways off, he took off after them. I didn't move again until I was sure he'd gone, then I didn't stop runnin' until I come across Ian."

"Damn near gave me a heart attack too!" Ian said, gripping his chest.

Ian had seen Liam tackling Reggie from a distance, but he didn't stick around to see what happened next. We all got silent for a few minutes; each of us reflecting on our shame for leaving our friends behind. It was that very thing that left us so distracted when someone else came plundering toward us.

"Run!" he called out as he pushed through the trees, "he's coming! Ruuuun!"

Before I had the chance to fully take in the sight of the only adult who had shared our company tearing through the branches, I felt him slam into me. Having paid little attention to my surroundings; what I could make out of them anyway, I was not only shocked by the impact of the shaggy-haired, lanky man, but of the steep hill we found ourselves rolling down second later.

"Marcus…" Ian called after me, only moments before his ear-piercing shriek interrupted whatever he had hoped to say next.

In all honesty, I can't say whether it was he or Malcolm who released that agonized wail, but that would be an unnecessary debate when the other joined in. When the twin chorus of horrified howls turned to gargled coughs and splutters, I was barely aware of the snapping of my ribs against the rocks and twigs I rolled across.

When our tumble came to a halt, I felt my consciousness struggling to hold on, before everything faded before my eyes. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I was screaming out to my body, begging it to reawaken before my old friend caught up with me. When my eyes blinked back to awareness, I was immediately aware of the significant amount of pain my body was in, as well as the guy my limbs were entwined with.

From where we now lay, sprawled out at the base of the hill, there was far less light, making my new surroundings all the more hidden behind the darkness, but the pain I was in was as clear as day.

"You okay?" I said, wincing from the agony screaming from my ribs as I nudged Gilroy.

"Huh? I…I think so," he replied, slipping his legs from mine.

I felt around the ground, hoping to find it level enough to attempt to push my broken body from its grip, but when I finally got to my feet, I was sure my eyes were playing tricks on me, or that the darkness was messing with my head. When I turned my gaze to that of the scout leader; the one I and my fellow scouts had put our faith in, I did not see the shaggy-haired, skinny man, but my spitting image staring back at me.

"What the hell!?" he said, backing away from me, holding his hands out before him.

"No way…" I replied, unable to think of anything else to say, other than questioning why he was backing away from me when he was the one who stole my face.

As we just stared at one another; both of us wearing the same slack-jawed expression, something in the back of my mind was yelling at me to start running again. While just about every inch of my body was in pain, I knew I had to convince my legs to get moving. Not only was I fully aware that I was face to face with Barnaby King, but I was certain that his vengeful sister would not simply have taken for granted that her work here was done.

It was as my mind was conjuring these facts, wrestling through the clutter of everything else this night has presented me with, that I felt the breath on the back of my neck.

"You're the only two left now," a voice spoke from behind me; not that of my friend, but a more feminine tone, "you could've made this so much easier; you know that, right? It's your fault they're all dead."

The voice was emotionless, yet graveled in a way; youthful and aged at the same time. Though I was frozen in place, as was the other kid wearing my skin, I felt my body seemingly move of its own accord; turning in place to look upon what would surely be the last thing I ever saw.

While my subconscious fought to sprint away from my inevitable demise, my eyes' desperation to see what had become of Liam took the wheel. When they met the empty stare of what stood there, the horror of what I looked upon threatened to stop my heart before Lilian King would have the opportunity to.

I couldn't tell if the thing was smiling, or if it was just the effect of that exaggerated underbite, hanging low, with those needle-like teeth stained with the blood of my fellow scouts. It looked like the face of an angler fish, but with slightly pointed ears in place of the fins on each side. Those small, spherical, black eyes glared into me, with nothing remotely human behind them.

I felt my feet shuffling against the dried leaves that still wore my blood, steadily backing away from this creature as its body heaved with breath, contorting the stretched and torn uniform that was wrapped around its slender and hunched frame. I couldn't take my eyes off it, even when it began to move in closer, closing the small gap I had made between us in two long strides.

"L-Lilian?" I said, almost hoping I could reason with it.

It nodded in response, not so much as blinking those hauntingly dark eyes.

Had she altered the story she told us to switch her and her brother's places? Was she the deformed and forgotten one, while he was the favored child of her parents? Could this be the true form of whatever her father truly was; what he was ashamed to have passed on to his son? At the end of the day, when all of this was said and done, I suppose none of these questions would matter.

As soon as I felt those lengthy teeth dig into my already shredded shoulder, I knew my curiosities would die with me. She wasn't aggressive with her bite. In all honesty, there was something of a tenderness to the way she dropped one hand over the side she wasn't chewing on, with her other pressed to my lower back. When she pulled back, tearing away a strip of my flesh with her, allowing the blood to gush from the open wound, I closed my eyes as I fell to my knees.

"RUN!" my clone called out as he attacked my would-be murderer, pushing me back as he tackled her; saving me from her following attack.

Though my shirt was heavily dampened by the constant flow of my bodily fluids, I needed no second demand to encourage me to get moving. It wasn't easy to push one leg in front of the other; not at first anyway. It was more the shock of everything that had only just occurred than the pain at the time. Likely the blood loss was a factor as well, but even as my ruined shoulder collided with the thick trunk of a tree, I continued forcing myself forwards, not so much as looking back.

I could hear the sounds of the ongoing battle for my freedom as clearly as if I still knelt on the ground beside it, but I wouldn't allow it to distract me from reaching my goal. I was so unfamiliar with this area that it was impossible to know if I would succeed in my escape, but I had to try.

Some minutes later; a timeframe that I was fully uncertain of between my fear and quickly dwindling energy, I noticed that only silence surrounded me. No longer did I hear the beastly siblings tearing into one another, nor could I make out even the smallest of forest critters nearby. Being unable to know if Liam, or Lilian; whoever the hell that was, could still be intent on hunting me down if she survived the battle, I still would not stop.

When I finally became aware of a new sound; that of engines humming and wheels rolling across the tarmac, the sight of headlights ahead allowed me to think I may just see the other side of this after all. I almost sprinted right into the road when I cleared the tree line, skidding to a halt before I met the front end of a speeding sedan.

I screamed out with every ounce of energy I had left, praying to the gods to allow my pleas to be heard by someone; anyone! I was barely holding onto consciousness when I noticed still headlights casting my elongated shadow before me. It wouldn't be until sometime later, after reawakening on a surprisingly comfortable hospital bed, that I would officially meet the middle-aged truck driver who spotted me before I fell into the black.

Over the following days, I would recall the devastating events of that ill-fated camping trip to a variety of official-looking individuals; two police officers being the first, as soon as my doctor cleared me to answer their questions. Though I could only assist them with what I had personally witnessed, some of which was quite foggy through the trauma of it all, I quickly grew exhausted from repeating the same words over and over again.

While I would not be privy to many aspects of their investigation, I was informed that I was the lone survivor of the wrath of Lilian King; someone who was nowhere to be found when the dust settled. Whether she wore another's face by the time the battle reached its bloody conclusion, or that she fled before the blue lights flickered across the trees, I can't say. The police were quite puzzled about the mangled corpse of my doppelganger, as was I, truth be told.

A police car remained parked outside my childhood home for some weeks after I was cleared to come home. When the body of the true Liam Holbrook was discovered some days after that night, it would be taken for granted that Lilian King was still out there somewhere. Given my recollection of the story she told, the authorities felt content in the knowledge that she would have no reason to seek me out, but wanted to keep an eye on things nonetheless.

I would have a significant amount of physical therapy to endure when I was able, in addition to the psychological counseling I maintain to this day. Those first few months after the brutal murder of my only friends in this world were the worst, but my anguish eased in time. Unfortunately, the more I grew aware of what truly occurred that night, the less stable my mental health became.

Perhaps it's simply the fact that I was far more resistant to use my gifts than my sister that caused this particular transition to be so jarring. I had been Jacob Gilroy for so many years, that I had almost allowed myself to believe it was my true identity. I had lived on the streets for some time after fleeing my home, still dressed as my mother, so to speak.

Having been cooped up in that basement for so long, I had not the slightest understanding of how to make it in this world, so I ended up amongst my fellow lost souls. The real Gilroy was a friend I made during those times; one who inadvertently poisoned himself to death with a needle in his arm. Fortunately, I only needed a sampling of his blood to become him, so the toxins he fed into his veins only caused me a fleeting euphoria.

Being the first time I willingly became another, I had not been aware of how fully we embrace our new skin, as well as the memories of those costumes we don. The troubled life my friend lived was all I knew for those months following his death, even up to the second the contents of that needle put his life to a premature end. These recollections pushed my own personal history back for a time, hiding them behind the curtain of the life I adopted. I even felt scared when I saw the face I wore upon the dead man before me when I reopened my eyes.

Seeing this as a sign, I managed to get my life together; Gilroy's life, that is, but Gilroy I was, for all intents and purposes. Once my fractured brain rebuilt the memories of my true lineage, I maintained those I had adopted as well. It can be distracting, mind you; carrying multiple lifetimes in my head, but I can only imagine how many poor souls my sister has locked away in hers by this point.

Why I never stole the full experience of my mother's existence, I cannot say. Perhaps it was simply the fact that she was my blood. Maybe it was due to my resisting that first change. I suppose there are some aspects of my life I may never fully understand, nor the facts of what I even am, for that matter. In this case though; with the blood transfer being accidental as we tumbled down that hill together, I was fully immersed in the reality of this new face by the time my eyes blinked back to awareness.

I would say that I can only imagine what was going through Marcus's head when he saw me looking back at him, but I would have to believe we were on the same page at the time. Likely we both saw the other as the one Lily sought out, but I can even begin to understand why he was so willing to sacrifice himself to grant me freedom.

When I awakened in that hospital, my heart ached for the friends I lost; those that Marcus lost anyway. When the pain gave way to anger, I wanted nothing more than to inflict as much of that agony upon the one who took them from me. It could be that it was that very thing that inspired the true Marcus to attack my sister; the desire for revenge, rather than an effort to save me.

I suppose there's no way to know that for sure, in the end. Perhaps, even after all these years, I do not fully understand the boy whose life I claimed for my own, once he had no more use for it. If nothing else, I can take some solace in the fact that his parents need not have mourned his passing, though they did bear witness to my self-destruction. I can't help but wonder if my turning to the bottle were some lingering effects of being Gilroy for so long.

All things considered, I suppose none of this really matters, as I am doomed to face the destiny I fled from back then. Should I ever hope to truly battle my inner demons, I must track down the very literal one I allowed so many lives to be lost to. Whichever way it goes; should I survive this encounter or not, it will never bring back those I let fall to my sister's lust for vengeance.

Maybe it would be best if neither of us survives our next meeting. Just wipe away the stain our parents smeared upon this world altogether. If that's the way it goes, I think I'm alright with it. Perhaps it is well overdue that my stolen parents be finally given a chance to mourn the death of their youngest son. That's probably the least I can do for them.

I think; when all is said and done, we all must face our demons in the end. No matter how far we run, or how hard we try to hide from them, these things cannot be avoided. I wish I had understood that much back then. Between my cowardice and my sister's fury, we both allowed innocent blood to be spilled. It's my fault as much as hers, what happened to the scouts I both watched over and considered friends.

Sometimes I wonder if those whose lives I stole still live on within me, as well as the great many I'm certain my sister has inside her head. After all, we are all just memories in the end. Nothing more than tales to be told around the campfire.