Hey guys,
This is my sequel story to the Fall of Five by Pittacus Lore. Normally, I wouldn't be writing a fanfiction, but this story has been written in the honour of Eight. It's inspired by one of Posk123's reviews, which suggested that it would be interesting to see how Marina held up if Eight did not come back to life. So, I'm sorry guys, but Eight's not coming back, though you will hear from him occasionally in the story from the Land of the Dead (I think). Anyways, this story is mostly Marina-centric, and she will be taking up about half the story time, though the others will have POVs too. Enjoy, and please review!

Marina

Eight.

I release a strangled gulp and will myself to cry. Still nothing.

It's been several hours since the battle in the Everglades, but I've thought of nothing else. Eight, who was so funny and easy-going, optimistic and cheery, friendly and supportive….. Tears well up in my eyes as I remember his wide grin, his dark curls, his bright green eyes, sparkling with humour. I can never see him again. We hadn't even recovered his body.

His body… My mind replays those final moments in the Everglades. We were running blindly, our minds paralyzed with shock and horror. I can barely remember healing Nine, making that ice-raft, Six propelling us with telekinesis, far away from that island, from the Mogs, from Five… and from Eight. I vaguely recall breaking down with guilt at his death, guilt at leaving his body there for the Mogs to desecrate, as Six and Nine gently guided me into a car they hotwired, and sobbing into Six's shoulder as we drove north, not caring where we went, as long as it was as far away as possible from that place… that place where I lost everything.

At least I had been able to cry. Now, it feels as though it's still locked in there. I keep waiting- no, praying for the tears to come flooding out, but there's no release. It's like a dam has been built across my mind, preventing all my emotions from escaping. It's cruel how helpless I am to block out these images, how his death keeps replaying in my mind, torturing me, taunting me at how weak I was, how….. how it was my fault he's dead.

I mentally curse myself again. If only I had been stronger, faster, braver- more like Six. I could have healed him, maybe even taken his place as Nine's human shield. But I stood frozen, utterly powerless to stop the events that were unfolding before my eyes. It's almost laughable how little control I had. I couldn't even help Eight fight that mutant gator. I'd completely failed my friends.

Shame rises up in me in a flash. I was the weak link, and I always had been. I still am, for that matter. This can't go on any longer. I know with bitter certainty that Eight's death was the wake-up call for me. I can no longer be the weak, gentle, caring Marina. I have to be a warrior like Six- powerful, unforgiving….

'Marina!' Six says, snapping me out of my reverie.

'Sorry.' I say, hating how my voice quivers. This has to stop. I can't have another death on my hands. 'What were you saying?'

'It's getting late.' Six says, appraising me with concern. 'Nine's found a decent motel. You want to stop for the night?'

I understand immediately. She wants to stop for me- so that I can have some space, some time, to reflect on what happened, and mourn Eight by myself. And as much as I want to scream at her to stop worrying about me, promise her that I will no longer be weak, I know I can't. First, I need to let go of Eight- pay him my last respects by myself. Then I can wave goodbye to my old self.

So I nod gratefully, and step out of the car. I hadn't even realized the car had stopped. A small, dingy motel lies in front of me, with crumbling walls and a tiny lawn, but I don't care. I need to be alone.

I stumble on the driveway, and instantly Six is there, wrapping her arm around my waist, steadying me. She guides me through the reception and up the stairs to a small room on the first floor, with a small bed occupying most of the space. I collapse on it at once.

'We'll be next-door if you need us.' Six says, disappearing out into the corridor and softly shutting the door behind her.

When I'm sure she's gone, I start crying again.

After I've had my cry, I walk over to the window. 'I'm sorry.' I whisper softly, praying that wherever he is, Eight can hear me. 'I know it's my fault you're dead, and that's unforgivable.' I clear my nose noisily and continue. 'But I want you to know that you were the best friend anyone could have asked for. You kept us together with your smiles and your optimism, and your jokes and teasing kept us sane in this crazy mess. You were the kindest, bravest, most supportive person I've ever known, and I'm honoured that you fought alongside me. Thank you, for everything you've done for me. I love you.'

And I smile as my memories with Eight flicker through my mind, filling me with warmth and nostalgia. Our conversation under that lake in India, the way he kissed me after I found his Chest, our kiss in New Mexico, our endless discussions in Nine's penthouse, our tour of Chicago, his laugh, his endearing grin, his ridiculous jokes, his beautiful green eyes…

My smile fades as the happy memories die away, replaced by the recurring memory of his death. Nine, trapped by Five's telekinesis, Five, flying at him, his sword aimed at his heart, Eight, teleporting in the path of the blade, sacrificing himself for Nine, the scar burning itself into my ankle, Five's panic….

Five.

My sorrow and shame disappear, replaced by a cold fury that surges through my veins. I barely notice my Legacy activating, the temperature falling as I instead focus on Five- the traitor, the backstabber, Eight's murderer. He betrayed his own kind to help the Mogodorians, he tried to kill us- the last surviving members of his own race, and Eight gave his life trying to stop him. I grin with savage satisfaction as I remember the icicle I created, plunging into Five's eye, and with a jolt, realize that I have changed. Eight's death changed me more than I realized at first. I search deep inside me, but all traces of gentleness and kindness have vanished. Instead I only find an unquenchable thirst for revenge. I can sense the anger inside me, swirling black tendrils coiling together in my heart like a snake, ready to strike.

I grin viciously. The Mogodorians will pay. They will suffer for all they have done to me, because I am now without mercy. I am Number Seven.

With a buzz, all the lights go out.

I immediately shift into a fighting stance, thinking the Mogs have found us. I find myself hoping that they have. I will make them suffer for everything. I will avenge Eight. I will…..

Why is it so silent?

With a start, I realize that the temperature had dropped well below freezing. Frost coated the walls and the glass of the window was covered with a thin layer of ice. I had used my Legacy without realizing.

With a sigh, I climb back into my bed and pull up the blanket. Tomorrow will be different, I promise myself. Tomorrow, I will be the hunter. I will get my revenge.

The moment my head hits the bed, the dreams begin.