There was a sound. A scraping. Something not quite there behind her.

Casey told herself to keep walking, just keep walking. It was only the shadows, the shadows and her own overactive mind. 19 year old Casey Cooke folded her arms over her stomach and listened to the sound of her footsteps on pavement, telling herself not to give in, not too run.

Too many times she had given in to panic, sprinting home in the dark, pursued by nothing but sordid memories and the mocking laughter of the past. There was nothing there.

She wouldn't do it. She would be strong, brave, she would walk home from work like a normal girl who wasn't afraid of the dark.

It came again, a gruffing, scuff of sound, and Casey's feet froze, uncertain now whether it was really just in her mind. There was a whine, as if from a dog, but it ended in a deep grunt and Casey slowly turned.

Light from the streetlamp fell onto cold pavement, caught on the sheen left from the afternoon rain. The street was dark, stretched with shadows, and empty.

Chastising herself for stopping, Casey turned back around.

There was a flash, a figure, a sickly scent, and Casey folded onto the hard pavement below, sinking into darkness.

Her room was damp, dark, and cold. It smelled faintly of mold and wet earth. She had come to alone, her thoughts thick, but her body felt unharmed.

She hadn't panicked. In some ways the darkness stemmed the tide. It was as if she was nothing, floating in an inbetween.

She didn't move, did not know how long she sat, knees curled into her chest, back resting on rough stone.

Her body jolted as a sudden sound came from the dark. A crack of light suddenly outlined a doorway, standing just across from her. It lit her surroundings just enough to show the room she was in was completely empty, except for her.

Panic began ebbing into her mind, and she swallowed, hearing the sound of breath, fast and shaky expand out into the room.

There came a voice, muffled, but close.

It was a man moving out past the door, Casey heard him, saw his shadow pass in the crack of light, and terror clutched her throat, thinking whoever had taken her had come back.

"Now why on earth would we have come down here?"

The voice was warm, rose in confusion, and sudden hope choked the terror in her throat.

"Help," it was a thin, pathetic sound, and Casey forced herself up, to stand. "Please, help!"

There was a startled yelp from just outside. The door suddenly rattled.

"Is, is there someone in there?" They sounded absolutely incredulous, and Casey felt hot tears form. This wasn't who had taken her. She would get out of here.

"Yes! I- I'm in here. I don't know what happened. Please, let me out!" Her voice sounded strangled, and Casey winced, barely recognizing it.

"O- okay. It's um, it's locked. Just give me a moment,"

More sounds, thuds and clangs, Casey waited trembling. Something cracked loudly against the door and she started backwards, back hitting the wall as the sound came of something hitting the floor, and the door slowly creaked open.

A triangle of light swept across the floor and up Casey, illuminating her there against the wall. Her rescuer was just a shadow, larger than Casey expected from the voice, and fear gripped her heart as the shadow moved forward.

"Oh, babygirl, what happened." His voice was gentle, tilted in a warm accent, and Casey was gasping as he came forward. His hands touched her shoulders, rose to cup her face in a touch that should have felt invasive, overly familiar, but his distraught voice chased all of that away.

"Let's get you out of here. I'm so sorry, are you hurt?"

Mutely, Casey shook her head, letting him lead her out of the small room. She felt cold. She couldn't explain it, like she was removed from who she was, what she should be feeling. Too many times Casey had learned to close it all off, and now in the wake of when overwhelming fear should have been replaced with overwhelming relief, she felt numb.

She blinked as she stepped into the light. It was a bright fluorescent with a harsh tint that illuminated the basement they stood in. The man still had his hands on her shoulders, was speaking, asking what had happened, if she was okay, and Casey took her eyes from the metal shelves that lined the room and forced herself to look at him.

His eyes were a full blue, flashing with worry and concern, his features would be strong if every thought and emotion weren't filling every part. He looked as shocked and horrified as Casey should be feeling.

He looked smaller in the light, his silhouette had been menacing, but now that she could see the man, she was no longer afraid. He was dressed nicely, almost fashionably, and that along with the curve of his voice made him almost seem endearing, and Casey shook herself, disturbed by the odd line of thoughts.

"I'm Barry, honey."

Casey blinked, "C-Casey," she stammered out. and he smiled.

"Let's get you upstairs and see if we can't get you home."

Casey felt a cold clench hit her at the thought of home, and she took a breath, reminding herself she did not live there anymore. She would not be going back there.

He settled an arm carefully around her shoulders and led her to the stair. They were concrete, grey and nondescript, and Casey focused on each one, watching her feet step and move, step and move. There was a door at the top, standing partially open, warm light spilling around it, and Casey reached for the handle.

A strangled sound came from the man behind her, and Casey jerked, twisting to face Barry. He was half collapsed, half hunched against the wall, face marked with fear, almost confusion.

"Wha-what's" he gasped, expression mangling and Casey felt herself moving towards him.

"Are you okay?" her hand shook as it reached for him. He pushed back from the wall abruptly, and Casey's hand fell in shock as the man before began to twist and grow. His body groaned and stretched, his hands tearing his shirt free as if it were nothing, veins pulsing, building, muscles etching themselves against his skin. A snarl came from lips dripping with blood as his teeth sharpened against his gums.

Casey was trapped in panic, in useless disbelief. She hated her body for always freezing, locking so pathetically in place.

"You..." It wasn't a voice. It was a growl, a harsh whine and memories flashed of the sound she had heard on the street, "are... mine... and you." he, it, this thing huffed, arms widening from its side in an intimidating stance, "will. not. leave."

Casey's knees began to shake, her legs wanting to crumble. It came closer, one step, another, now the one just below her, hunched menacingly above her, hot breath pouring into her face. Its eyes were cracked with red veins running into pupils that were too wide, almost obscuring the black and Casey saw her own terrified face in their reflection and she hated it.

Too late she stumbled backwards, too late she tried to run. This beast was already upon her and it closed hands with fingers too long around her and drug her down each step.

She struggled, she tried to, but the strength of its hands bit into her, and it threw her back into the tiny room with a snarl.

She collapsed, palms scraping the rough stone, her hair falling into her face and she blinked through it up at him as he stood above her. She could see its breaths panting in its side, like an animal, like the horses on the farm she visited as a child, could see the veins pushing from the skin as if they would burst.

She didn't understand how he, how this thing could be human, How the man with the kind, frightened eyes could have become this thing.

It did not speak. it stood, staring, huffing, as the door swung close, and darkness rushed in around her.

Casey crumpled, spots of black danced before her eyes, blending with the dark. She heard the sound of her breath, counted each breath. She wasn't here. She was curled, under her bed, listening for the sounds of boots on worn hardwood. She counted her breaths. It meant she was alive. She counted her breaths. It meant it wasn't a dream.

She didn't breathe in her dreams.

She counted her breaths until they calmed, and numbness wiped away the terror. Then Casey pushed herself up from the floor, and coolly arranged her thoughts.

It wasn't long until she heard him returning, frantic step on the stair, a harsh scrape against the door, the sound of it creaking open.

"Casey?" The voice was full of dread, and Casey opened her eyes.

He stood there, the man, hunched almost into himself. She watched as he sank slowly to the floor, just outside the doorway. She realized suddenly that he was trembling, and his arms wrapped around himself.

"Baby girl, I am so sorry. We didn't know, we didn't know he took you."

"What are you?" Her voice was firm, almost, and she watched him wince. Her mind had run through every impossible possibility. That he was crazy seemed obvious, but his body should not have looked like that, changed like that. Was it some sort of drugs, bad experiment, deformation? But the man before her looked perfectly normal now.

"My name," he pressed up onto his knees, almost reaching her for with one hand. "Is Barry." his hand shook. "I share this, this body, with other people, other alters."

Casey just blinked at him

"That, what took you, honey, it wasn't me. I didn't know he did that. I would never" the word was almost a cry, "do that. But he's stronger than me. He's stronger than almost any of us. And he says you have to stay."

Casey swallowed, "What is he?" it was a rough whipser ripped from a dry throat, and it cracked.

Barry's eyes filled with tears, "We call him the Beast. He hasn't, he hasn't always been a part of us. He doesn't usually take the light, be in control. The rest of us, we share it, but he comes out when he wants and we can't stop him."

His head fell into his hands, and Casey's eyes slipped past the man crumpled in the doorway, towards the stairs.

"so if I run?" she whispered, and his head came up, panic written across his face,

"No, no you can't Casey. He'll come back out. He'll stop you. He might hurt you. He, he says that if we make sure you don't escape, that we can keep the light. He'll let us stay with you, take care of you. But if you fight Casey he'll emerge. I would let you go, I swear it, if we could."

"So I let you keep me, or that thing comes back."

He nodded, a tear slipping from his eye, "I'm so sorry, babygirl." Everything in his expression burned with sincerity, and Casey choked on a frazzled laugh. This was insane. Completely insane.

And it was only going to get worse. Before her eyes Barry shifted, and his eyes blinked wide.

"HEyyyy," he swiped at his cheeks, tongue peeking through his teeth as he grimaced. "What, I'm not crying," his voice was suddenly young, and he was looking at her like someone who was totally embarrassed. "I pwomise, I'm not. That's for sissys."

He wiped his hands on his clothes, stopping in an amazed sort of wonder when his fingers encountered the torn shreds of his clothes.

"Woahhh, what did Barry do to his cwothes?" There was the slightest lisp to his voice, and Casey was blinking, trying to keep up.

"Barry didn't do that." she said, for some inexplicable reason, and watched his eyes widen.

"The beast?!" it was a squeak, and he fell over backwards, then scrambled up. "Ohh man. I don't like him, I'm glad I wasn't hear when he came, cuz oohh man," he slapped the back of his hand into his palm, reminding Casey of wanna be gangsters she'd seen in youtube videos, and impossibly a smile cracked her lips.

"Who are you?" she asked softly, thinking this must be another of the, what had Barry called them? alters.

"I'm Hedwig!" he grinned at her, and even though she knew it was Barry's mouth, she almost expected his smile to be missing teeth. "Mr. Barry said your name was Casey. and that I should be extra nice to you," he blushed suddenly, ducking his head, "he didn't tell me you were pretty."

He peaked at her, bouncing in place. "Mr. Barry also told me you'll be staying with us, and I thought we could like have fun, and play games, etc."

He was looking at her so shyly, but so hopefully, that Casey managed a smile that wasn't entirely forced.

"That sounds nice, Hedwig. But do you think maybe there's something to eat? I'm a little hungry."

Hedwig slapped his forehead like he should have thought of it. "I'll go get Miss Patricia."

He bounded away from her, leaving her door wide open, and Casey watched as he hopped up the stairs. He was almost out of sight, pausing on the last steps, when he turned. His eyes suddenly changed, tightening, darkening. His body was still prancing in place with the energy of a child, but Casey knew she was looking into the eyes of a beast.

"Don't" was all he said, and all thought of escape that had been paving their way through her mind suddenly crumpled up and vanished.

Hedwig blinked, shaking his head, "Woahhh," he giggled a little, as if he had merely spaced out for a moment, then finished darting up the stairs calling "Miss Patricia! Miss Patricia!"

Casey crawled to her open doorway, and sat huddled in the light, eyes wandering the room just to fix repeatedly on the stair.

She heard the voices first. It sounded almost like Barry's voice, being passed back and forth with a softer, feminine tone. The basement door opened and the voices stopped, as the man returned, walking carefully down the steps. He passed to where she sat, almost gracefully, a hand resting just below his throat on his chest.

"Good day. My name is Patricia. You must be Casey," her lips pursed a little in a cute way as she gave a little shrug. "Why don't you come with me." She extended a hand, then winced as Barry's voice poured out.

"You heard what he said Patricia!"

"Oh hush," Patricia waved a hand like Barry was being over dramatic, "I do not want to have to come all the way down her just to feed her. We can keep her from escaping just as easily upstairs, and we would all be much more comfortable."

"The beast might come back!" Barry argued.

"Or he could understand and allow this," Patricia answered, sounding wise as she reached for Casey again.

Barry drew their hand back. "He might hurt her!"

Patricia hummed a little in agitation, "well we will never find out unless we try."

She gripped Casey's arm, it may be a woman's mind but it was in a man's body and Patricia pulled her easily to her feet. Casey stared at the upper door in terror.

"Please, I don't want it to come back. I don't mind staying down here."

"But I mind, dear," Patricia said, turning to give her a pleasant looking smile, "now please, don't fuss and let us go get something to eat."

Casey was drug by the arm as Patricia hummed contentedly up the stairs. They reached the door and Casey was tense, waiting for Patricia to convulse into the beast, but as Patricia reached for the handle, she called out in a sing song tone, "Just heading upstairs," and she swung the door open with no hesitation.