Transformation Central

[BlackAndBlueEyes]

Lyridia. That's where they told me I would find him.

Dudic Friedlander, sage of the lost.

An archivist of some renown, who had spent nearly all of his ninety years in this world digging through the ruins of civilizations lost. Collecting books, artifacts, and--most importantly--secrets from those who preceded us. Delicious, dangerous secrets.

I had an address. I had an appointment. I had him right where I wanted him.

A few weeks ago, I sent him a letter requesting an audience to discuss some findings in some Durklan ruins deep within the Red Forest. I bullshitted my way through most of the letter, fabricating treasures and artifacts that I would present to him for further study. And bless that old fart's soul, he believed me. He hastily responded, his chicken scratch handwriting nearly illegible, agreeing to a meeting at my earliest convenience.

I was on the first boat out of Tirel. I brought nothing with me but a burning question that I must have answered.

I moved swiftly through the streets of Lornius's port city, wrapped up in a black robe held tightly around my body, hood covering my face. I avoided eye contact with everyone that passed me by as I walked down those busy cobblestone streets. I squinted against the harsh wind and rain that poured down as I moved with purpose. The gods decided to set a proper backdrop for the events that would soon transpire.

It wasn't long until I found myself at my destination. It was a small, two story house that looked like it could've used some work and a fresh coat of paint. Candles were lit in every window, through which I could make out shelves upon shelves of books, trinkets, scrolls, and other things that the scholar collected. I hastily climbed the stone steps and rapped on his door with my briar-knit fist.

"Yes, yes, I'm coming," a hoarse voice sounded from within.

Seconds later, the door opened, revealing a shriveled old man with skin like parchment and eyes that shone with a youthful energy and natural curiosity. The scholar smiled as he greeted me. "Ah, come in, please. You must be Madison."

I stepped through the door, quietly shut it behind me, and immediately pushed the old man to the floor. He tumbled through a stack that had been assembled near a love seat, scattering books, journals, and parchments every which way. I caught him off guard--it was clear on his face.

"Wh-what is happening?!" he stammered. "What are you doing?"

A burning question, that I must have answered.

The lead pipe that smashed in the skull of Erikar Impossiblename appeared in my right hand. "Can I have your brain?"

[BlackAndBlueEyes]

The first time I performed this ceremony, it took me hours of agonizing work. This time, I had it done in ten minutes.

Dudic's cold, dead body laid in a pool of cool blood in the middle of his living room. His corpse had been marked with the proper runes in the proper places. I had it all memorized after the first time I performed the rites. Having memories ripped from your mind and new ones implanted, along with the severing of your arm, will make you remember shit.

I lit the candles, placed them around his body, and stood at his feet. My voice was strong and sure as I began the ceremony. "Maladim Karunungan, hear my prayer!"

Several candles flickered, sending shadows dancing along the leather-bound spines that sat in dusty bookshelves.

"Maladim Karunungan, hear my prayer and answer my call!"

I saw the dead scholar's head twitch for a split second.

"My lord, nothing is hidden from your sight! No small detail escapes your attention!
Share your knowledge with me! Open my mind to the wonders of the world!"

The corpse on the floor had begun to violently convulse. Dudic's skull banged hard against the carpeted, blood-soaked floor of his home.

As the lights from the candle began to shrink from the magical energies filling the room, I raised my voice and continued the incantation. The script from here on out was a foreign one; a regional dialect from some far corner of Dhethain, but I spoke it as if it were my native tongue.

"Retcarahc wena t'rat sot evir don evahi!
Teehs ym fogni krowera ec nosi h'tem wol la!"
Emite nosi h'tsei tiliba Wefat-Suj,
S'daer h'tym H'sini fyl lautca Ot-N'rut er niesi morpi!"

The candles simultaneously snuffed out. I could swear that the room was approaching pitch black, despite the gray skies and sheets of rain that fell outside. A soft, blue glow began to shine from the dead eyes of the scholar. His body was convulsing violently on the rug. Little droplets of blood still oozing from his fatal laceration speckled the fabric of his robes.

I took a deep breath, and with a booming command, completed the summoning prayer.

"Maladim Karunungan, my lord, SHARE WITH ME THE WORLD!"

A loud, splitting noise and a flash of terrible blue light filled the room. A wild wind whipped around, sending tomes and papers scattering. Shielding my eyes with my hands and gritting my teeth, I stumbled backwards into a bookcase behind me, causing a few dusty old tomes to fall to the floor in a heap. The cracking ceased, and the blue light slowly faded away, to be replaced with the warm, orange glow of re-lit candles.

I stood there, in considerably less awe than the first time I performed this horrible act. On the floor, still as the moment I killed him, lay the scholar Dudic Friedlander, but with one key difference: His face, from his hairline to his nose, had been split apart from skin to skull. Towering over him with his back to me was a figure roughly three inches taller than me, dressed in an perfectly-pressed three piece business suit that appeared to be darker than the midnight sky. His skin, what little of it showed, was nearly as white as a fresh sheet of paper. His hair was as yellow as the midday sun, and combed over perfectly so not a single strand was out of place. In a gloved hand, held high above his head was a bloody mush of gray matter that anyone with even a basic anatomical education could guess what was.

He was the demon Maladim Karunungan, the Keeper of Knowledge.

[BlackAndBlueEyes]

The demon slowly turned, his lips curled in a thin smile as he regarded me. Maladim tossed the dead Dudic's floppy, bloodied brain around in his hands.

"Nice find, Freebird. Better than the last."

I steeled my gaze and clenched my fists, prepared for whatever could possibly come next. "Let's make a deal, asshole."

His smile grew, almost menacingly. "My favorite words."

[BlackAndBlueEyes]

A rush of wind, a flash of light, and a suddenly I found myself seated in an impossibly comfortable leather chair. I sunk into the material with a loud, drawn-out creak. In front of me, there was a low coffee table crafted from mahogany and polished to a mirror sheen.

All around me, there were endless shelves, stories tall, packed with books.

And when I say endless, I literally mean the very concept of endless. I was sat at the intersection of several rows, and they went back as far as my eyes could see. There was no end to them. It's... incredibly hard to describe, really. Outside of overwhelming, anyway.

Chandeliers hung from the ceiling, casting adequate light throughout the area. The floors were covered with a plain carpet, a mix of red, brown, and purple shades cut in geometric patterns. My chair and the table were resting on an ornate rug of seeming Fallieni origins.

Across from me, sitting in a similar leather chair, was the Keeper of Knowledge. Maladim was pawing through a leather-bound journal, his eyes scanning each and every word, his mouth moving along with each letter. I couldn't make out what was on the page; from the way his eyes darted up and down the page instead of left to right, it was probably written in a script unknown to me.

The demon looked up, gazing at me over the top of his black-rimmed reading glasses. "Journal of a crusader from a faraway world," he said, answering the question lingering in my mind. "Having a bit of a crisis in her faith after being on the receiving end of a curse that showed her a little too much about how the universe works."

Maladim shut the diary and casually tossed it onto the coffee table between us. He leaned back in his chair, templed his spidery, gloved fingers, and took a deep breath. He immediately shot to his feet, making grand gestures at the stacks that surrounded us.

"Beautiful, aren't they, Ms. Freebird?" He spun around in a circle, taking in the sheer infinite nature of the archives. "Knowledge, secrets, research. From every possible walk of life in every inch of the universe in every possible timeline. Every tome, journal, textbook, notebook, essay, pamphlet, magazine, novel, scroll, compendium, atlas, folio, even scrap of a tavern napkin that a lonely widow's address was written on. If it exists and someone has known it, it is collected here. Within these shelves, within these bindings."

"Yes, quite impressive," I said nonchalantly, my gaze drifting across the endless shelves that surrounded me. Somewhere in there, laid the plans I had written down to acquire certain dangerous things and use them for what could be seen by some whose intelligence had been replaced by paranoia as a malicious purpose. Before they were discovered and I was betrayed by those who I thought were friends, anyway.

The demon came to a stopped and held out a hand, motioning to a ceramic mug that poofed into existence on the table, complete with a little spiral coaster made from straw. "Forgive my manners. Care for something to drink?"

[BlackAndBlueEyes]

I eyeballed the empty cup for a second. "Sure," I said hesitantly. "Hot chocolate, please."

With a snap of his fingers, the mug filled with a steamy, brown liquid. Marshmallows formed at the drink's surface, swirling around in a soft circle. Maladim produced a stick of cinnamon and carefully dropped it in. The thick aroma of chocolate permeated through the air, and I breathed it in. I felt a wave of calm wash over me as I leaned forward in my chair and snatched it up. The calm was replaced by a warm rush as I took my first sip. My tongue burned from the sensation, but I didn't care. Noriko chile powder, I noted. This bastard made my favorite Fallieni hot chocolate.

The blonde demon took his seat once more, crossed one leg over the other, and leaned back. Over the rim of the glazed mug, I could see that hungry grin plastered all over his face.

"You've changed since we've last met," he mused.

Of course he could see through my little illusion stone. "Quite," I replied blankly, between sips of cocoa.

"I also see you've been rather... busy."

I set the drink back down on the straw coaster. The taste of sweet and spicy lingered on my tongue. "I suppose you can say that, yes."

Maladim shifted his weight slightly. The chair creaked in kind. "The murder of thousands and flirting with some very dangerous legends does tend to tie up the ol' calendar, doesn't it?"

He was, of course, referring to the Eiskalt War, everything that happened with Pode, and my schemes to acquire the power of the rest of the Forgotten Ones--something that I was well on my way to completing before my... well, we can just say setback. "It does, yes," I said with a nod.

The Keeper of Knowledge nodded to my right arm, whose mechanical construction had long ago been replaced with gnarled vines. "What did you do with the arm?"

"Got some great money for it on the black market. Some researchers were intrigued by the runes I wrote that allowed me to command it with my mind." I leaned forward and grabbed the cup again, swirling the hot chocolate around with the cinnamon stick before taking another tasty gulp.

"Makes sense," he said with a nod. "You probably could have just strapped it to your back or chest. Could've made for a great party trick."

I didn't reply. I wasn't in the mood for jokes.

Sensing as much, Maladim stiffened a bit. "So, you wanted to talk business, yes?" He threw his arms out again, straightening out his pitch-black sleeves. "Then, let's talk business. What can I do for you this time, Madison?"

"I want a do-over."

His smile faded ever-so-slightly. "A do-over?"

"Yes," I said, my face going hard. "A do-over. A reset. Another chance. A new life."

[BlackAndBlueEyes]

Behind his black-rimmed glasses, the demon's eyes narrowed. "You're not asking for an awful lot, are you..."

"Cut the crap, Maladim," I snapped. "I'm sick an tired of everything. I hate what I've become. I hate how it's driven me to do some pretty terrible things. I hate how the world has reacted to me, to this."

Even though I didn't need to, I clicked off the illusion and put my real body out for display. It was a disgusting, vaguely humanoid mass of gnarled vines, carbonized bones, thorns, and sharpened teeth. Glowing amber eyes burned cold in their sockets. I dug my fingers into the arms of the leather chair as I leaned forward, tearing the fabric slightly in the process. The demon was unimpressed.

"I hate how these past few years have caused me to become desperate," I continued, my voice strained as the stress of the past three years came crashing forth all at once. "I hate the crowd that I've fallen in with. I hate the darker paths they constantly push me down. I hate all the back alley deals, the blood-stained gold, the death and destruction that seems to follow me wherever I go. I hate the feeling that I'm always being watched, always being one step away from my own end."

Maladim arched an eyebrow. "But that's who you are, Freebird."

"I know. And I don't want it anymore. I want out. I want away from all this." I reactivated the illusion as I slumped back into the chair; less to hide my vine-wrapped body from him, and more to hide it from myself. I sighed deeply. "I'm tired, Maladim. I just want to get away. I just want to slip into anonymity, left to my own devices and live the rest of my life out in relative peace."

The demon willed a tumbler of bourbon into his gloved hand and took a sip before setting it down on the table between us. "So," he began, his annoyance thinly-veiled, "why did you come to me?"

"We've dealt with each other before," I said flatly. "I figured we could deal again."

"Complete fate and history resets aren't exactly my wheelhouse. There are others that handle that."

"You're also far more reasonable in your price than they are."

"Fairness is a big weakness of mine," Maladim said with a sigh.

I grabbed a sip of my cocoa before continuing. "Look, I don't want a complete reset. I just want a new beginning. A new chapter in my story. A fresh start on a new life with none of the baggage of the former."

Maladim was silent for several moments, choosing the words he would say next carefully. "The thing is, you do want a reset, in a manner of speaking. I've read your journals--you're absolutely sick of being a plant."

I nodded. I was indeed.

The Keeper of Knowledge was silent for a few more seconds that dragged on like hours. "I suppose I could hook you up with a new body, at the very least. Something better than that jumble of vines."

"That's a good start," I said.

The demon's eyes glinted in the light of the candelabra overhead. "I suppose I could do the rest, too. Fresh start and all. At a price, of course."

My heart quickened. "Name it."

"Your eternal servitude."

My eyes rolled into the back of my head so hard I thought my optic nerves would snap. "Of course."

[BlackAndBlueEyes]

"You act as if lifetimes in my employ is a bad thing, considering what you're asking of me," Maladim said, a spidery gloved finger pointed at my face. "At like I'm not like a lot of the others. I don't give you what you seek, let you run around for a week or two, then collect on the debt and send you to my personal circle of Hell and strap you to a device while dozens of devils torture you with fire and steel, cackling while the eons pass for you.

"No," he continued after a sip of his drink, "when I say 'servitude' I mean more of an actual job than anything. A job with eternal tenure, of course, but a job nonetheless."

I didn't believe him, of course. You should never trust a demon. But hell if I wasn't curious, at the very least.

"I'm listening," I said, slowly lifting my mug of Fallieni hot cocoa to my lips.

Maladim motioned to the infinite stacks of books that stood around us. "As you can see, I am in charge of curating and maintaining an humble little library here. But, sadly, I cannot do it alone. All those parallel universes, with their countless worlds with innumerable life forms running around on them. Untold numbers of thoughts, observations, conversations, and discoveries happening, every single second of every single day. It gets to be a little overwhelming for one poor soul such as myself, even if I do command a considerable amount of power..."

The power to overwrite my memories and implant a lifetime's worth of scientific knowledge, I thought bitterly.

"Which is why I keep an eye out for potential candidates on each and every one of those worlds. Those with a curious mind who are always open to learning more. Scholars, thinkers, tinkerers, explorers, those with a burning desire to fill their tiny little minds with the secrets of the unknown and infinite." Maladim drained his glass and set it back down on the table between us. "Those kind of people are the perfect candidates for employment under me.

"However, you aren't exactly the smartest person who has crossed my path, even in your own little world." His words stung me for a moment, and my scowl worsened. "I gifted you all this knowledge for the low, low price of your arm, and all you did with it was kill a bunch of people on a backwater island who have a hard enough go at it already."

I opened my mouth to protest, but he waved me silent with a gloved hand. "Save me your ramblings about all the things you planned to do. You had some grand ambitions, but lacked the self-motivation to see them through. You were lazy. You barely used your gifts for anything, let alone any perceived good you had in mind. I don't have any room in the research branch of my organization for people like you."

My blood boiled hotter with each word he said. "Who do you think you are to tell me the value of what I've--"

"Please let me finish," the demon interrupted. I threw myself against the back of the chair and resigned myself to smoldering silence. "Thank you. While I don't have any room in the research wings, I would not have entertained your request for a new start in life if I could not have found use for you within my library."

I slightly arched an eyebrow. "What do you have in mind?"

A thin smile formed on his porcelain face. "You would be better suited as an Archivist, for sure. Your mercenary background, your willingness to go that extra mile to see your mission through. All positive traits for a member of that branch of the library."

"Alright," I said after a second. "I'll bite. What does an Archivist do?"

"You're familiar with the term and its applications in your world, correct?"

I nodded.

"It's basically the same idea, but with some added bullet points. As an Archivist, it is your job to collect unique tomes and artifacts, good and evil, big and small. I will hand you tasks--collect this channeler's chalice, delve for this ancient staff, beat up that wizard and pilfer his spell book."

"So, you want me to be your collections agent," I muttered sourly.

Maladim shook his head. "Of course not. There is far more involved. You will also be granting access to items within my library to those who need them, and when the fates decide it is time for them to receive them. It will be up to you to give these pieces of knowledge to those who will change the progress of your world. They will seek you out, or you will be tasked to go to them."

"This sounds incredibly boring," I stated frankly.

The Keeper of Knowledge's bright eyes glowed with a power electric. "The alternative is far worse, of course. One of my Archivists found a treatise on Nof'glarian torture methods a few months back on Morgana Prime. Four hundred pages on techniques that torture the body, four hundred more that can directly harm a person's soul itself. I can have him fetch it, if you want something a bit more exciting in your future."

"That won't be necessary," I quickly said, furiously shaking my head side to side.

[BlackAndBlueEyes]

Maladim threw his hands out to either side of him, stretching tight the midnight fabric of his coat. "Then I think you will be an adequate enough addition to the Archivists. You get the full life reset you desire; a new body, the cancellation of all those dark plans that the gods had in store for you--"

A small, dark something stirred deep within the pit of my chest. "Wait a second. What dark plans?"

"Don't worry about it," he said, brushing aside the subject without a second thought. "You get all your little heart desires, and in return you get to beat people up and take their stuff on my command while facilitating the development of your world from behind the scenes for the rest of time. Do we have a deal?"

I would love to say that I took several long, lingering moments to think this through. I really wish I could say that I thought about the ramifications of what I wanted. I wish I could say that I considered all of the plans I had built up these past few years, the web of contacts I tied together, the shadowy organizations I had been a part of in order to further my goals.

But this fucker was giving me a relatively consequence-free ticket away from all that.

"We have a deal," I said confidently, and extended my gnarled, disgusting, briar-knit hand.

Maladim smiled as he grasped it tightly.

"Then let's begin, shall we?"

[BlackAndBlueEyes]

The second he released his grip, the endless library melted away into nothingness. We stood in pitch black for several moments, before one by one, little splotches of white light appeared. They were slow at first, but soon picked up the pace as additional bursts of white fire appeared. We found ourselves in a featureless chamber, with perfectly smooth walls, ceiling, and floor.

I stood in awe while the demon simply stood there, his concentration firmly focused on the series of spells he was weaving. There was a low rumbling underneath me, which shook the floor. "What the hell is going on here?"

"You'll see soon enough," he replied calmly.

All around me, panels lifted from the floor and a series of metallic tubes emerged from them, attaching themselves to rails that dropped from the ceiling. I saw panes of glass in the top halves of the cylinders, but they were being arranged at such a speed that I could not make out their contents. Machinery rumbled and magic whirled about as Maladim set up the room to his liking. The demon exhaled, and the process stopped, and my jaw dropped when I saw what he was doing.

I was surrounded by hundreds--no, thousands of copies of myself. Tens of thousands of bodies, each in a different steel tube hanging from the ceiling, all of them unmoving. Their faces were blank, bereft of emotion and life.

"Wonderful, aren't they?"

My eyes lingered on one of the tubes for a second. It was clearly me; but something was off. Her nose was just a little rounder, her chin a little flatter. But those eyes... Those were definitely my eyes. "I... What is this?" I asked the demon, my voice sounding incredibly foreign to myself.

He gestured to the assembled collection with his hand. "This is every Madison Freebird from every parallel universe that I could scrounge up on such short notice." He paused for a brief moment. "The dead ones, anyway."

The word dead snapped my attention to him. "What do you mean, the dead ones?"

Maladim shrugged. "Not every Madison Freebird across every timeline is as moderately successful as you. Or even as lucky as you." The demon shuffled the front row around on its rails, and rapped his gloved knuckles on the window of one chamber in particular. "Like this one, here. In her timeline, she managed to usurp the power of Pode, Xem'Zund, and Denebriel and absorb it into her own being. She was after the remnants of Oblivion's soul when the Tantalus Troupe rallied the heroes of their world and put a stop to her."

I moved closer to peek into the tube. A face nearly identical to mine stared back, her blue eyes staring of in the distance. Red veins spiderwebbed away from the corners of her eyes, running deep into her scalp. Her hair was similarly black, but had red highlights streaked through it. "I had similar ideas at one time," I said almost nonchalantly.

Maladim scoffed. "And you would've ended up similarly dead." The demon shuffled he preserved corpse down the line. I thought on that statement for a moment while he summoned up another pair of chairs and a table behind us. He motioned towards it, and I took my seat.

"So, where do we go from here?"

"First of all," he said, "we pick out a new body. You won't find one exactly like the one you've been putting wear and tear in for the past thirty years, but we can come close. A couple genes off from what you've had; a thinner nose here, a wider face there. A little bit of weight distributed differently in places. Nothing that you can't get used to with a few day's running around."

I thought about it for a moment. I greedily thought about asking for the most attractive, svelte body possible. Surely, with all these variations of me present, there had to have been one where I got the best from both my mother's genes and my father's. Something to where I wouldn't have to go around, avoiding making eye contact with people because I looked like a scrawny little bird. Reading the curiosity in my eyes, Maladim moved around the rows and columns until one chamber came forward.

I stood up from the chair and approached this different Madison. Wiping the fog off the thick window that separated us, I peered inside. I was greeted by the dead visage of the most strikingly beautiful me I could've ever imagined. The perfect chin. the smooth jawline. The button nose that was just the right length. Eyes that were slightly bigger than they had any right to be. Clearly defined cheekbones that offered just enough femininity while not making her look totally weak. Raven black hair that was pulled into a ponytail.

My eyes traveled further down the tube. This Madison had clearly defined muscles on her arms, showing that she had done her fair share of exercise in the combat rings order to keep fit. And also...

My jaw dropped and my eyes went wide. "Oh--oh my goodness."

Maladim grinned. "And she lived without back problems, too."

[BlackAndBlueEyes]

It was on the tip of my tongue to say "yes, this please--this one right here, right now".

But, before I could form the words in my mouth, I remembered just who I keep company with. All those dirty mercenaries, leering ne'er-do-wells that constantly blow their cut of the contract on the first pretty thing that crosses their path.

Tobias Stalt, former womanizer extraordinaire.

And Aurelianus Drak'shal, who needs no other descriptive title. That dirty fucker, my best friend though he may be, is always looking for something new to stick his diseased, mutated, split, and barbed thing in. I didn't want to give him any more reason to desire me more than he may already have.

I sighed heavily, gazing longingly at the beautiful reflection of myself in the tube for one last second, and then shook my head. "No, I don't want this one. Get it out of here."

Maladim looked at the corpse for a moment. "Are you sure? Looks like that will definitely help you in your acquisition tasks."

"A boot to the groin can be just as persuasive. I'm used to flaunting those more, anyway."

He shrugged his shoulders, and the cylinder was shuffled back into its original spot. I felt just the tiniest pang of regret in the back of my mind as I watched it go. "So, what shall we look at now?"

I thought about it for a long moment before speaking up. "How close can we get to my original form? Something svelte but unassuming. Built with combat experience in mind. Something nice and athletic, muscular without being too buff. Under five foot ten, maybe. Oh, and without much to get in the way." I fluttered my hands in front of my chest for emphasis. If the tangled mass of vines that formed my cheeks could blush, I would've done that too.

The demon nodded, and flicked his wrists. "Function over form, gotcha. Something modest and unassuming, but itself a potential weapon. Let me see what we got here."

Hidden machinery rumbled and roared as the rows of Madison Freebirds flew back and forth in a blur of steel and glass. Determination was etched on Maladim's face as he took stock of what he had, shuffling around his inventory until he brought a dozen or so specimens before us.

I drew closer to one that was third from the left. I wiped the condensation off the curved glass window and peered inside. It was almost a carbon copy of myself--same thin nose, same eyes and chin, same thin lips. However, something was different.

"If you wanted a Mack truck of a body, there you go."

I looked at the demon over my shoulder. "What's a Mack truck?"

"Don't worry about it. I'm using it as a euphemism for you're going to hit hard with that body."

I peered back into the chamber, my eyes traveling down this Madison's frame. A noticeable ring of fat circled her midsection, and her hips were just a few inches wider. I clicked my tongue in slight disgust. "I have enough crippling issues as it is. I don't need to add body confidence to that list."

"The low metabolism would be countered by your on the job traveling. Also, think of the money you would save wanting to eat less." Maladim smirked, thinking he was making the funniest of jokes. You would think with an infinite library at his disposal, he could've looked up one that was better.

I moved on to the next of the assembled corpses. This new one was pretty close to the body that I had before it was burned away at the stake in Eiskalt. The nose might have been just a bit thinner, and it looked like it was broken in a fight and reset. There was also a small scar underneath her left eye, barely visible due to the paleness of her skin. ...Or is that my skin? Because technically, she was me from a different universe or timeline or whatever.

I jammed a thumb against the window to this particular one. "What's her story?"

"She never left her family," Maladim said as he approached the encased body, another amber drink in his hand. "Her parents treated her with the care and respect befitting the heir to their name and dark little empire. Her Trevor never died in that ambush, and she came into her own as an assassin. She was rather successful at her job, as well. Eventually collected her own little 'family' of hired killers, and grew to hold some considerable power in the underworld of her own Corone."

I leaned in closer to get a good look at this Madison who did what I could not do. I felt a pang of jealousy tear at the back of my mind. Her family didn't betray her, I found myself repeating over and over in my head. "So, what happened to her?"

The demon pursed his lips. "Her ambition outgrew her abilities. She went after some people she shouldn't have, and they caught her. She watched each and every single one of her gang die before they ripped her soul out of her body piece by piece. Nasty way to go, I'd say."

I turned my attention back to this particular Madison. This Madison, who looked almost exactly like me. This Madison, who got the family that I always wanted. This Madison, who was able to succeed where I failed.

"I want this one, please."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."