The old wallpapers on the walls that were a paled color of peach were stained with dark, with blood, some parts burned, while the old portraits that hung were scratched were barely staying straight.. Some fallen, some simply diagonally hanging there.. Such portraits with frames of gold.. They must had weighted a ton. How they stood up for so long, I had no clue.. And the biggest one, taking half the wall across took my attention.. It was truly hard not to. As I took a few steps towards it, the broken pieces of glass underneath my boot cracked and crunched, the wooden floor barely holding my weight.. It wasn't possible that someone could live there. No there must had been a mistake.. But wither way, I seemed very much focused on that portrait that hung across.. It was large and rich, even after so many years, the paint barely even painted.. A man was painted.. A familiar dark haired man, with eyes so blue, I almost felt like they were real.. Like they followed my steps and watched me approach.. I stopped.. Stopped and stared. Adam. That had to be him. I had seen him in that nightmare.. He had been able to get in my head. He probably still was. And as I stood there, I feared that perhaps he had.. How would I know if he did? No, no, it's not possible. I could still feel the fury keeping my blood boiling hot. I was still myself. And I found myself running my fingers over the painting.. The glass that was probably over it was now nonexistent, so I felt the texture of that paint, the trails of the brush underneath my fingers.. The cold eyes of the handsome man were the brightest blue, almost crystally, and I wondered if they were in reality too.. Looks could had really tricked someone.. Adam was one handsome bastard. I wondered if time had changed him. "Lana," My name.. My name was said.. A familiar deep voice that I had only heard.. Oh hell no, it was not possible. I immediately turned around. Yes, it was him. Adam. That face I saw in that nightmare, that voice I heard.. Seemed like it was no nightmare after all. It was all a mind game. And now there he was, standing a few feet across from me.. Eyes of diamond blue, almost glowing against the moonlight that peeked, sharp lines of his high cheekbones and a strong jaw.. He was made for paintings. And only that. No matter his looks, his simple presence brought darkness.. It brought coldness and death. He was the one monster we had all tried running from, but would run our whole lives if we didn't put him down.. End him, once and for all. But I pushed that anger back because I couldn't have him recognize it.. Sense it. No, I had to make him believe I was frightened. So I took a small step back, then another, eyeing him.. He was dressed in a suit. A flawless dark blue suit, a well tied tie, as his dark hair too was perfectly groomed. Was he even real? Or was it just an illusion? There was no way he could look like that, being stuck in that house for two years.. "You." I whispered, keeping a fake tremble of fear in my voice.. He had to believe it was fear I felt. It was the only way it would work.. And the way his lips curled on one side showed his satisfaction of the dread he caused. What a monster he was.. He fed of the fear he caused.. Of the pain and the chaos. Death for him would be damn mercy. He took a step towards me with the one I took backwards.. "You finally made it pass the porch. I've waited a long time for this moment, Lana.. I truly didn't think killing your father would bring you to me." A lump in my throat formed.. I tried gulping it down, but there was no such effect. My father.. He dared mentioning my father.. His death. I clenched my teeth.. Looked down to hide the fury that seemed to once again built inside me.. And trying to push back the urge of running at him, tearing him limb from limb, I felt my mind losing focus on what to say.. How to distract him a bit longer, until the rest arrived.. "It was—" I cut myself off, with a sharp breath of some fake dread.. I kept my voice down and looked back at him. "How did I get here?" And I knew exactly how, but could I make him believe it was one of those mind games that brought me there? "It must be our connection.. It's alluring you.." Another step closer to me.. One to witch I didn't flinch about.. For a second, I thought I would take a step closer, just so that I could get my hands on his neck and crack it. But I didn't. "A Morpher's blood is connected to something that belongs to me.." Yes, Amelia's blood. She was a Morpher, after all. "The necklace." I tried keeping the frustration in my voice unrecognizable, but I still seemed to had spoken through my teeth. And he.. He either didn't notice or.. Or he simply chose to ignore the rather spark of annoyance I couldn't stop from slipping.. So, he stopped before me.. Close until I could feel the coldness of his body near mine. It was that moment I knew he was real. Not an illusion. And his body.. It didn't radiate heat. No, he was— It was almost as if there wasn't a drop of blood flowing through his veins. Simple coldness of a dead man. The kind of darkness that not even a vampire held.. He reached a hand towards me.. And I knew I could— I could take him. I could kill him. I could at least try. But that wasn't the plan. No, I promised Christian I would wait until he was there. He respected my decision to act as a bate.. I had to respect his request to not put myself at any danger or harm.. Not before he was there to control it.