When they returned home, Cass practically passed out on her bed, not even bothering to take her dangerously pointy high heels off. Not in the mood to play caretaker, April threw a blanket over the completely drunk girl and retreated to her own bed. Flopping onto the soft surface, she let her eyes slip shut as she relaxed, feeling completely drained. For the first time since she had arrived at the Nolans, she was homesick. She had spent countless nights dreaming of Ireland, waiting for this trip for months. But... she had imagined taking long walks in the perfectly lush countryside or spending a few hours in a tiny pub, listening to old folk tales. Not almost passing out at a dingy club that could have been found in the centre of L.A.

Running a hand over her face, she let out a low sigh, mind threatening to slip away into a deep sleep. However, she wasn't about to sleep with two pounds of makeup on her face. Pulling herself up from the bed, she padded over to the overly spacious bathroom. Letting the water grow hot, she waited before running the facecloth over her eyes. It relaxed her a bit, feeling her pores open up from the slavery of foundation. The harder she scrubbed, the better she felt. A few minutes later, she felt clean enough to turn the water off and dry off her face. With a quick glance in the mirror, she realized that there was still a spot on her cheek. Picking at it with her fingernail, she watched it flake away, falling delicately onto the porcelain sink below. With horror, she noticed that it had actually been her own skin flaking away, revealing grey underneath. Pausing for a second, her hands hovered in terror. Obviously it was just the remnants of the alcohol in her system... But something in the back of her mind told her that it wasn't that. It couldn't be. In fact, her mind had never felt more clear than it did now. Picking again, she managed to pull a bigger piece. It gave away like cheap wallpaper, peeling a large expanse of skin from her cheek. Hands shaking and eyes watering, she stared at her old skin in her fingers. It hung like thin paper, looking like the finest sheet of gossamer. Only a few seconds later, did it dissolve into the air, leaving nothing.

With wide eyes, she stared at her reflection, half expecting the rest of her face to melt off. Nothing happened for a moment, before a strong ringing sounded in her ears, making her wince. Without warning, someone was behind her, grabbing her by the head and smashing her face forward into the mirror. The sound of breaking glass caused her to shoot upwards, grasping for her cheeks, uncertain as to what had happened. After a few seconds of disoriented breathing, it occurred to her that it had just been a dream. Another terrifying nightmare. Just as she calmed down from her terror, she heard the sound of glass breaking again. Someone was breaking into the house.

Jumping up from her bed, she grabbed the nearest weapon: a glass vase. The weight of the makeup that was still on her face confirmed the fact that she had indeed been sleeping. Pausing in utter silence, she strained to hear an indication as to where the person was. They obviously weren't very quiet, or concerned about being heard... But as she stood, not daring to make a sound, she realized that it was too quiet. Unnaturally quiet. Wouldn't the Nolans' have some fancy as hell alarm system? So... they could afford chandeliers bigger than cars, but a simple piece of electronics that went beep when someone broke in wasn't part of their mansion? That seemed perfectly logical.

Her inner bitchy monologue was interrupted by the sound of a thud from the bathroom behind her. Spinning around, she ignored the fact that her heart had tried to jump straight out of her chest cavity. Only a few seconds later, a figure stumbled into sight, holding the side of it's head.

“Jesus! Who leaves the shower door open, just waiting for someone to clock their head on?” She recognized the voice, but it wasn't until he stepped closer, almost receiving a vase embedded in his face, that she fully figured out who it was. That kid from the club.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” She cried, still holding the vase threateningly. It wasn't until now, though, that she realized it probably wouldn't do much.

“Making sure you're alive.” The response made her frown, confusion evident in her face.

“What, so you can kill me?”

This was obviously funny to him, because he let out an amused laugh that echoed in her ears. “You watch way too much T.V.,” he replied, after he had finished laughing like a hyena. Now he was walking around the room, examining the few belongings that she had scattered around. “And would you please put that down? You might break it.”

Staring at him incredulously, April slowly lowered the vase, debating with herself for a few seconds before she put it back. She felt oddly comfortable all of a sudden, like her mind had switched tracks without informing her. She attributed it to the fact that he hadn't tried to stab her. Yet.

“Why are you here?” It was kind of an odd situation, considering the fact that normally, April would have a bit more sense than to have a conversation with the person who just broke into her friends' house. But at the same time, he didn't seem like he wanted to kill her. In fact, he had claimed that he wanted to make sure that she was okay. The confusion of it all was beginning to make her head hurt.

“To explain. I realized that before was probably not the most... strategic way of going about introducing myself, but I'm kind of new to this too.” He paused, setting down a picture of April and her family. “I... well... have you been having weird nightmares lately? Headaches? Feeling strange, for lack of a better term?”

She nodded, eyes narrowing a bit. He ignored this.

“Okay.” That was all he said, though, and went back to examining the items around the room. Thinking he might continue, April waited. But almost a minute had passed and he had still said nothing more. Feeling frustrated and a bit irritated, she let out an impatient sigh.

“So?”

“So nothing. Just needed to know. By the way, what were your dreams about?”

She remembered the moths bursting from her stomach and shuddered. Then, of course, she had just dreamt about peeling her skin off less than twenty minutes ago. “Weird things. My stomach exploding with moths trying to get out... my skin peeling off. You know, that kind of thing.” She gave a nervous laugh, like it was a normal thing. He didn't say anything, just nodded, as if he were thinking about what she had said.

“How did you break in?”

“You mean without setting off the alarm? Well, you kind of have to set an alarm for it to go off, April.” She felt her cheeks flush as she realized how stupid she had been. Of course the Nolans' had an alarm. She had just been too dumb to remember to set it. But the sound of her name made her tense. How did he know her name?

“Who are you?”

He seemed to smile, even though half of his face was shrouded by darkness. “My name is Zeke. And I'm the only friend you've got right now.” Okay. Weird name to go with an even stranger kid. Awesome. April kind of just sat there, staring at him in silence, as she tried to process everything. So far this was working it's way up to #1 on the list of weirdest birthdays ever. It was a close tie between this and the one where her dad had lit his tie on fire, which had led to a giant sprinkler party in their tiny house.

“Okay... so, as my only friend, what do you-” but she didn't get the chance to finish her sentence. The sound of a bloodcurdling scream cut her off, pulling both of their eyes to the door. April's heart plummeted to the floor, veins flooding with adrenaline. The only other person in the house right now was Cass, lying on her bed where April had left her. Obviously, this Zeke kid had friends and they weren't as charming as he was. Her best friend was going to get killed. “Cassandra!” She leaped off the bed, racing towards the door before Zeke grabbed her, pulling her back.

“No! You can't!” He hissed, continuing to drag her away, his voice calm despite the urgency behind his words. Once he had gotten her to the window, he pressed her against the wall, holding her there by the shoulders. “Remember the guy from outside the club?” He didn't wait for a response. “He's trying to kill you. You have to come with me.”

“Kill me? Why?” The very idea seemed ludicrous to her. Why on earth would someone want to kill her? Zeke seemed to hesitate for a few seconds, as if he were debating with himself. Deciding if he should tell her something or not.

“He was hired to do it.”

April frowned, listening for Cassandra again. Seeming to read her mind, Zeke spoke again. “He won't kill her. They don't kill people. You're his target. It's best to get you as far away from her and her family as possible, if you want to keep them safe.” Despite his words, she still stared at the door, feeling like she would betray her friend if she left. But Zeke turned her to face him, his eyes staring straight into her own. A sudden wave of compulsion sent her mind veering off it's original track again, like the 'April brain train' had been derailed and steered in a new direction. He was right.

“But...” All of the excuses she had a few seconds ago now seemed feeble. Seeming to sense that she still wasn't content, Zeke sighed, placing a hand over her eyes, his expression concentrated. “Let me show you.”

Almost instantly, she saw a hazy image. It took a few seconds to fade in, but once it did, it was like watching a movie. The edges were blurred and distorted, like they had been burned, or ruined with exposure to heat. Everything was too bright, as if the contrast of the picture had been turned up. As the view turned to the right, she saw a body lying in a crumpled heap. With a closer look, she realized that it wasn't just anyone. It was her. Blood, the color of the darkest night, dripped from her mouth, pooling in the expensive carpet. And beside her, was Zeke. His throat was cut and a pole of iron was sticking from his chest. Suddenly wrenched from the vision, April felt her knees go weak. It felt as if she had just been electrocuted.

“But... that... it hasn't happened yet!” She whispered, eyes wide and fearfully fixed on Zeke.

He shook his head gravely. “No. Not yet. But it's a possible outcome of the future. And every second that we stand here arguing, the more likely that outcome is. So...” He gestured to the window urgently, eyebrows pulled into a fearful expression. Nodding, she ran with him, barely pausing to think as they climbed out onto the roof. Reaching the edge, Zeke voiced their only option. Jump. The two of them fell into bushes, tumbling into branches and thorns. Surprisingly, neither of them broke any bones and they took off running across the lush grass. Barefooted, April felt like her feet didn't even touch the ground. She had never run so fast... She was the wind, moving faster and faster until...

“Stop! Stop!” Zeke panted, slowing down a bit, as he veered to the left, almost running into the car he had parked a mile down the road. As they caught their breath and got into the car, April kept glancing over her shoulder, feeling as if there might be someone behind her... Someone with a giant axe in their hands, poised and ready to come soaring down into her neck... Okay. Maybe she had watched too many crappy horror movies.

As the car peeled out into the road, she had finally relaxed a bit, no longer jumping at every little sound. But a thought hit her. Something that Zeke had said, while she had been too scared to fully comprehend. “What did you mean when you said... they don't kill people? We're people. We're human.” Zeke didn't look at her for a moment, his eyes set straight ahead on the road. There was a ferocity in them that made him look like a completely different person than before. He wasn't just some drugged up kid at a nightclub anymore, covered in glow-sticks. He looked like... a warrior. Only a few seconds later, did he give her an answer that sent shivers up her spine.

“You're not human, April.”