Chapter 1

“And then the whole family gets murdered, it was soo sad, I can’t believe it happened just like that!” Rachel tells me through the phone, her chirpy little voice continuing on about her favourite story she’s reading at the moment. Glancing down at my watch, I chew on my lips. It’s pretty late out now, and although I’m nearly home…I don’t feel safe.

“Vickie? You still there?” Rachel asks, and I hum. “Yeah, I’m nearly home,” I respond, glancing behind me. The thing is, I know I’m being stalked. I’ve reported him to the police, but nothing has been done yet, so my ex boyfriend is continuing to unnerve me. He hasn’t actually done anything weird yet, other than just…following me around places.

Jack and I dated for about a year, until I broke up with him around a month ago - he was cheating on me and I’d had enough. I was upset, obviously, at having my trust broken like that, but thankfully I wasn’t that in love with him. I did love Jack, but it wasn’t the all-encompassing romance-novel type love. It was just…normal, regular, simple love.

Until it wasn’t, and he cheated on me. He must not have loved me that much then.

“My shift is about to start, but message me once you’re home safe? Love you!” Rachel says cheerfully, before ending the call. “Yeah, love you too,” I whisper into the darkness, but the call has already disconnected.

And that’s when a shiver zips down my spine, and I freeze. Fuck. I know well enough to trust my instincts when they tell me to run, so I hold my phone tightly, ready to dial 999 at a moment’s notice. Taking a deep breath, I run for it. I’m only about five minutes away from my apartment - I can make it. I’ll be safe there.

Surely this isn’t Jack though, right? I mean he’s creepy but I’ve never felt these kinds of instincts around him before. Turning a corner, I run slap bang into a man, before gasping in pain as I’m punched in the stomach. The man covers my mouth, shoving me back against the wall and crushing my hand, forcing me to drop the phone. I try to fight back, try to do anything, but I’m not exactly strong. I’m short and have never been into sports - I was always a musical kid, not an athletic one.

Fuck.

The man hits me in the stomach again, before the moon highlights a glint of silver in his hand and the anger in his eyes. “Fuck you, Victoria,” he spits, before stabbing me in the shoulder. I cry out, but the sound is muffled as he covers my mouth, his leather gloves thick. I slip down the wall as he stabs me in the thigh, and then the stomach, and then my chest.

I’m going to die.

“I hate you so fucking much, you bitch,” he whispers, no sounds even leaving my mouth anymore as he stabs me again. It all hurts so much…

“I never even loved you, not one bit. You were just a way to kill time, but you’ve ruined everything,” he hisses, grabbing my hair and hitting my head into the wall. I can’t see anymore, it’s too dark, it’s all…

Too dark.

And then light.

Gasping, I sit up, coughing and choking and sobbing, crying for my life. He’s going to kill me - I have to get away, I have to-

Where even am I?

Glancing around the room, I realise…I’m in bed. So was that all…a dream? Wait no - is this a dream? 

Where the fuck am I? This isn’t my room, this is some posh as fuck fancy old mansion, based on the giant bed and huge windows, sunlight streaming through them onto the marble floor. Still breathing heavily, I carefully touch my shoulder, my thigh, my stomach, my chest…all the places I was stabbed, but…I’m fine.

Except where the fuck are my breasts.

Staggering out of bed, I make my way over to a mirror, and nearly scream at the sight. Not only am I no longer my beautiful, female self- I’m now a teenage boy. The literal worst combination. This can’t be real, please let this not be real. I start crying again, hesitantly pulling up my shirt just to check…

But I don’t find breasts. Instead, I find numerous scars, in the exact places I was stabbed.

“The young master is awake!” Someone calls behind me and I whip around, quickly pulling my shirt back down. A maid is standing at the door, her mouth hanging open and her eyes permeating with relief.

“Erm…me?” I ask hesitantly, before being shocked by my own voice. It’s clearly not broken yet, as my two words start off low and end up squeaky. Holy shit. I’ve got to be like. A young teenager.  Probably 14 or 15. Which I’d kind of gathered, based on how small my hands are, and how short I am now apparently, and shit like that, but…this is beyond weird. I’m supposed to be 26.

I have got to try out peeing later, I’m so curious.

“Prince Hector, I am so glad that you have finally awoken!” An old man bustles into the room, coming over to me and reaching out to touch my forehead - I instantly slap his hand away, pressing my hand to my chest. “Do not touch me,” I say firmly.

I was just murdered. Whether I really died or not (I have no clue what’s happening here), it felt like I was stabbed, many times, by a man.

By Jack.

I felt all that pain. I have the scars on this body, somehow. I was killed. I died. 

“Apologies, your highness. Please allow me to check your temperature - you have been unconscious with a fever for weeks, and we feared that you would not make it. But alas, you have made a wondrous recovery!” The old man states, and I shake my head, stepping away from him. “Don’t come near me, I’m warning you,” I glare, clutching the edge of the dressing table tightly.

“Hector? Oh my sweet boy,” a woman with silver hair - naturally silver, rather than due to old age (or at least I’m assuming, since this boy’s body also has silver hair) - dashes over to me, pulling me into the warmest hug of my life.

My mother never hugged me like this, not once.

Hector is a lucky kid.

“Thank goodness you’re alright, I’ve been so worried. I love you so much,” she whispers, and I can’t help but hug her back. “I’m fine now, Mother.” Why did I say that? The words came out before I was even thinking about them. What’s happened to Hector now that I’m in his body? Did he…did he die of the fever? Was he so ill that he died and I took his place? Surely not, I mean no-one dies of a fever nowadays.

Then again, my ‘mother’ is in a ballgown and apparently I’m a prince called Hector, so who the fuck knows what’s happening.

“We thought we’d lost you…you were so weak and pale, the physician told us to prepare for the worst…I thought you were never going to pull through,” the lady whispers, pulling back from me to wipe a tear from her eyes, her smile watery as she cups my cheek gently before placing a soft kiss on my forehead.

“My precious son. You’re so strong, thank you for coming back to me,” she cries, hugging me again.

But I’m not your son.

Have I really…taken this boy’s life? How is it fair that I should take his place?

What about him?

“Hector is gone, little one. If it weren’t for you, his mother would not be shedding tears of happiness right now. She would be sobbing over her son’s untimely death.”

The fuck?

“Fear not, little one. When your body unjustly lost its life, I saw an opportunity. I am here to bring life, and where death cannot be avoided…I seek to find ways around it. You are a loophole, little one.”

“Are you God?” I ask, gaining strange looks from everyone in the room. The voice is speaking directly into my brain then, apparently.

“No. I am a spirit. Most just call me life. I shall give you all of Hector’s memories - do not worry, they are lovely. He had a wonderful life, surrounded by love - unlike you, little one. You were murdered by the one who pretended to love you.”

I stare at the floor, pressing a hand to my heart, right over where Jack stabbed me. I didn’t need to be reminded of what I just went through.

“You will live out Hector’s story. Fate has already put things in motion, since I stopped Hector’s body from dying. He was supposed to die now, but I have interfered. Fate is more powerful than I, so good luck, little one. Please live, for your sake, for Hector’s, and for his family’s.”

“Hector? What’s wrong?” The lady asks gently, before a million memories flood my brain.

Ah, I see. 

The spirit was right. 

Hector had a wonderful life.