"If Alice is dying, or is dead, do not panic, for she has a rare, unique and wonderful gift from God which has no easy way to explain to you, so I’ll come straight out with it.
Alice cannot die; she is an immortal."

However, Death is closer than Alice thinks.

Eli Furst, a Soul Leech is after her, and he will go to any lengths to have the only existing immortal as his personal pet.
Alice must not allow herself to be caught, but must protect the family she has found or part of her soul will die forever and will not return.


4. Chapter Four


The thick, dark clouds stumbled across the sky, lurching forward like new a new born foal trying to stand.

It was just my luck they were heading in this direction. I could feel the thunder from the sky causing the Earth to grumble in response every time it crashed overhead. The storm was quickly rolling in, and from my experience, that was never a good sign.

After recuperating from my escape from the German prison and torture chambers, I had been reassigned to the Front Line. Obviously, I had to go in disguise as a nurse volunteer for the Red Cross; women soldiers were still a very modern thing, and many men wouldn’t find it acceptable. George still didn’t like it, even with my abilities and his protection.

I pulled at my uniform, fiddling with the cap they had given me.

“MEDIC!!” The shout somehow reached above the incessant sound of guns pounding the earth.

‘PLEASE! MEDIC! I NEED A MEDIC! PLEASE!’ I looked outside and saw a Sergeant shouting. A Doctor shook his head and walked away from him.

‘NO! PLEASE, HELP ME!’ He shouted again. The Doctor ignored him and shut the tent curtains. I looked around, and threw a small stone towards the Sergeant. He stared across at me, and I gestured for him to come over. I grabbed a First Aid box and met the Sergeant at the entrance to my tent.

‘Take me to him.’ I said, my eyes darting to the tent where the Doctor had disappeared and glaring before following the Sergeant.

What greeted me was a sight I have never forgotten and made me freeze a metre or so away from the body.

His legs had been completely torn from his body, leaving just his torso and arms. Shrapnel had pierced his stomach in several places, causing blood to pour out of his mangled body. He gasped desperately for air as blood filled his lungs and began to spurt out of his mouth.

I could tell he wasn’t going to live much longer.

The Sergeant lowered himself at the boys head, taking it in his hands and cradling it on his lap.

‘Look Jimmy, I’ve got a beautiful Nurse to look at you; much better than one of those paunchy Doctors, right?’ He laughed, rubbing the mud and blood off his face.

The Sergeant looked up, and his eyes bore into mine, begging me to save him. I quickly strode forward, ignoring how my feet sank into the mud up to my ankles and knelt next to the men.

It was then I noticed how young the soldiers face was. I smiled down at him, stroking his forehead. I was rewarded with a grin from the boy, before he began hacking up more blood.

I turned away, not letting him see the pain in my face; I opened the first aid kit and pulled out the morphine.

‘Please, will he...?’ I looked at the Sergeant, my eyes filled with sadness.

‘All I can do is take the pain away.’ I whispered, showing him the needle I had filled above the required dosage. He knew what I was doing, and knew that I could be sent back home for such a waste of medical materials, but he nodded, his eyes filling with tears before he angrily wiped them away.

I smiled back down at the boy and pulled his sleeve up his arm; noticing how black his hands had become from the dirt permanently ingrained in his skin. I searched for the vein in his arm, and pierced it with the needle.

I slowly pushed down the plunger, and watched as his eyes became glassy.

I stroked his face and smiled.

‘You’ll have to take me dancing one day when this is all over, okay?’ I said, and watched as he smiled up at me, nodding his head. I felt his hand grip mine, and allowed him to lift it to his lips and kiss my knuckles.

‘Thank you.’ He whispered hoarsely, before his fingers lost their grip and he fell into an eternal sleep. I closed my eyes to stop the tears from falling; the 18 pound bombs causing the ground to rumble with the sorrow of such a young life being taken.

‘He was 15; he lied about his age to get in the same regiment as me. He was my fiancés little brother.’ The Sergeant said, staring down at the smiling face resting on his lap. I grabbed his hand, in mine and squeezed it, offering the little amount of comfort I could give for such a loss.

‘I’m sorry I couldn’t do anything more.’ I whispered, staring at the young face. He’d died smiling, and beneath the blood and grime, it was clear that he would have been a very handsome man, but that chance had been taken from him.

‘You did more than anyone else; thank you so much.’ I looked into his fervent, desperate eyes and smiled gently. I squeezed his hand again and packed away my first aid kit.

I looked down at my hand, and noticed the blood that had been left on my knuckles from the boys kiss. As I got up to walk away, I noticed the Sergeant still sitting there, staring down at the boys face. I frowned, before walking back and handing him a bar of chocolate and cigarettes.

He looked up at me and smiled his gratitude before returning to his mourning. Just as I was walking away, I heard him shout after me.

 ‘Nurse, if you ever need anything, ask for Sergeant Lewis Clark. I’ll help you, I swear.’ I looked back and smiled, nodding before returning to the first aid station, helping any mildly injured men bandage their wounds as I passed.


Present Day

I stared out of the window as the rain pelted the glass, watching as the raindrops angrily tried to tear through the house and their docile retreat down the window.

I have memories spanning over a century; few of them are ones I wish to remember.

The boy that died before me on that day remains etched into my memories. He was just a child.

A child killed and harmed by war.

A child forgotten. He became a number in a report, a name on a telegram, and a name on a gravestone with no body back home in England.

It sickens me even now, the amount of young life wasted through the greed and cruelty of people who never even lifted a gun, only pens.

There is a saying, the pen is mightier than the sword.

Until you've lived for as long as I have and experienced and seen the things I have seen, you do not truly understand the truthfulness in this statement.

I heard laughter from downstairs, and walked down to see Luke and Max playing a game on a PlayStation. I smiled sadly before silently backing away, allowing them this moment of peaceful innocence.

For I knew, it would not last for much longer.

I had a feeling deep in my stomach that this time would not last. The storm raged on outside, but I knew that it was not only the weather that would be this way, but a conflict was due to begin.

And I'd managed to land right in the middle of it.

'You were right George. I do have a talent for getting in trouble, don't I?' I whispered to myself as I stared out of the kitchen window at the rain slamming into the Earth, like suicidal planes making a desperate last effort to destroy their targets.

Their mission is futile, yet they continue to attempt the impossible.

I sighed, tired as I stared out at the world.

'Sounds like me.' I whispered hoarsely. 

'You know, talking to yourself is considered to be the first sign of madness.' I heard Jake's voice from behind me. I turned to look at him, and felt loss stab my heart. His resemblance to George was uncanny.

'I passed that stage many years ago.' I said, my face serious. We stared at each other for a few moments, before he walked across to a cupboard and pulled out a couple of mugs.

I resumed staring at the rain as the kettle boiled, bubbling loudly as gusts of steam floated across the room.

Jake silently handed me a hot chocolate and we both stood, staring out at the rain.

'You can feel it too huh?' I asked quietly. 'That something is coming this way.'

He nodded, sipping his drink.

'I won't let anything happen to your family. I swear.' I said, clenching my teeth tightly together before turning and placing my empty mug on the counter and walking through to the living room where David watched the boys play their game.

I sat down facing the window that gave me a clear view out the front of the house.

I could have sworn that as I left, Jake had whispered something:

'And I won't let anything happen to you.'

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