(Third Person POV) Rain drifted across the windshield in thin silver lines while the wipers swept steadily back and forth.
The motion was almost hypnotic.
Mike barely noticed the road anymore.
Headlights passed occasionally through the fog, brief flashes of white cutting through the dark before vanishing again.
The forest pressed close on either side of the highway, endless walls of black pine disappearing into mist.
His hands tightened unconsciously around the steering wheel.
Something felt wrong.
Not outside, but inside.
Then red and blue lights exploded across the rearview mirror.
Mike blinked hard.
“What?” He glanced down at the speedometer and relaxed.
Ten miles per hour.
“…Oh.” The Mountaineer rolled slowly onto the shoulder with a tired groan of old suspension.
Rain tapped softly against the roof while Mike rubbed a hand over his face.
‘Fantastic.’ A flashlight beam cut through the drizzle as someone approached the driver’s side window.
Broad shoulders.
Thick mustache.
Police uniform damp from the rain.
Chief Charlie Swan.
Because apparently the universe enjoyed humiliating him personally.
Charlie leaned down slightly.
“Evening, Mike.” “Chief.” Charlie glanced toward the dashboard, then back at him.
“You aware you were driving slow enough to be legally classified as road construction?” Mike snorted weakly despite himself.
“Sorry.” Charlie rested an arm against the window frame.
“You okay?” Simple question.
Too simple.
Mike opened his mouth automatically, ready with some easy excuse, but the words stalled somewhere in his throat.
The glow from the dashboard reflected dimly across his hands.
Hands gripping another steering wheel.
Different car.
Different night.
The violent scream of twisting metal.
Glass exploding outward.
Headlights spinning sideways through darkness.
For one sickening second, he could almost feel the impact again.
Then it all vanished.
Mike blinked hard and forced himself back into the present.
“Think I’m getting sick,” he said finally.
“Little fever maybe.” Charlie studied him quietly.
Mike got the uncomfortable feeling the man could see straight through people when he wanted to.
“Fever, huh?” “Yeah.” Charlie’s expression flattened slightly.
“You look pale.” Which was ironic considering Mike currently felt like someone had replaced his blood with overheated engine coolant.
Charlie straightened up with a sigh.
“Alright.
I’m following you home.” Mike blinked.
“Seriously?” “Seriously.” “That’s really not necessary.” “Neither is driving ten miles an hour in the middle of the road like a confused raccoon, but here we are.” Mike huffed a laugh despite the knot sitting heavy in his chest.
Charlie pointed once toward the road ahead.
“Drive.” “…Yes, sir.” The cruiser pulled out behind him.
The rest of the drive passed in silence.
Rain hissed softly against the asphalt while Charlie’s headlights stayed steady in the mirror the entire way home.
Strangely enough, the presence behind him felt comforting.
Like someone making sure he survived the drive this time.
The thought sent a chill through him.
When Mike finally pulled into the Newton driveway, Charlie stopped at the curb behind him.
Mike rolled the window down slightly.
Damp air drifted into the car carrying the scent of wet pine.
“Thanks, Chief.” Charlie tipped his head once.
“Get some sleep, kid.” Then, after a brief pause: “And maybe try driving at a speed visible to the naked eye tomorrow.” Mike laughed quietly.
“I’ll do my best.” Charlie gave him one last searching look before pulling away into the rain.
Mike watched the taillights disappear down the road.
Then he looked at his reflection faintly mirrored in the dark window glass.
Same face.
Same body.
But something behind the eyes felt unfamiliar now.
Maybe that was what dying did to a person.
… (Mike’s POV) The rain had weakened to a light mist by the time I stepped out of the car.
Everything smelled damp.
Wet wood.
Pine needles.
Earth.
The porch light buzzed faintly overhead while I unlocked the front door and stepped inside.
The house was quiet.
Not unusual exactly, but tonight the silence felt heavier somehow.
Mom was probably in her room, and Dad was likely still at the store finishing inventory.
I kicked my shoes off near the entrance and stood there for a second staring blankly at the carpet.
Home.
This was home.
That realization should’ve felt comforting.
But instead, it just made my chest ache.
I headed upstairs slowly.
Every step creaked beneath my weight.
My room looked exactly the same as it had that morning: clothes tossed across the chair, half-finished homework on the desk, the faint smell of detergent and cardboard lingering in the air.
A completely ordinary teenager’s room.
I sat down heavily on the edge of the bed.
And finally, for the first time since waking up this morning… I let myself think about it.
I died.
The thought landed differently now that I had time to process things.
I remembered headlights, the rain.
A horn blaring somewhere too close.
Then the violent impact.
There should’ve been pain after that.
Instead, there had only been confusion.
A brief, terrifying realization that there wouldn’t be an afterward.
Except somehow there was.
I rubbed my palms together slowly.
They were warm.
Way too warm.
Eric’s reaction earlier replayed in my head.
Your hand felt like a toaster, he said.
I stared at my reflection in the rain-darkened window.
Same blond hair.
Same blue eyes.
Mike Newton’s face.
But every time I looked at myself, it felt slightly off.
Like wearing someone else’s skin after forgetting your own.
“Why me?” I murmured quietly.
No answer came back.
Only rain against glass.
The worst part wasn’t the vampires.
Not really.
As insane as the Cullens were, they at least fit neatly into the rules of this world.
Vampires existed here.
That was normal.
But me?
I didn’t belong anywhere anymore.
I had memories of another life.
Another death.
Another world.
And somehow, at the same time, I also remembered growing up here.
Playing little league.
Working at the store.
Acting like an idiot in front of any cute girl I met.
Both lives felt real.
That was the terrifying part.
I wasn’t replacing Mike Newton.
I was Mike Newton.
And someone else.
The overlap made my head hurt.
I leaned back onto the mattress and stared up at the ceiling while exhaustion slowly dragged at my limbs.
Rain whispered softly outside the window.
My eyes grew heavy.
Right before sleep finally pulled me under, one thought drifted quietly through my mind.
Maybe this second life wasn’t a reward.
Maybe it was unfinished business.
… I woke with a gasp.
Metal screamed through my skull.
Shattering glass.
Twisting steel.
For one horrible second, headlights burned behind my eyes bright enough to blind me.
Then darkness.
My room slowly came back into focus.
Rain ticked softly against the window.
My breathing sounded too loud in the dark.
“Just a dream,” I whispered.
Though it hadn’t really felt like one.
The clock beside my bed read 5:03 AM.
Outside, dawn was still buried beneath the fog.
I scrubbed a hand over my face before dragging myself upright.
Maybe some fresh air would help.
I changed quickly, pulling on joggers and a hoodie.
The sweatpants stopped awkwardly above my ankles.
I frowned down at them.
“…Okay, either these shrank or I got taller overnight.” Honestly, neither option felt impossible anymore.
The cold morning air hit me the second I stepped outside.
Or at least, it should’ve.
Instead, it felt sharp and refreshing against my skin without any real bite to it.
Mist curled low across the yard while the forest beyond the Newton property loomed dark and silent beneath the fading rain.
I started jogging.
At first, everything felt normal.
Wet ground beneath my shoes.
The steady rhythm of my breathing bringing cold air into my lungs.
Then ten minutes passed.
Ten turned into twenty.
Then thirty.
And nothing changed.
No burning in my legs.
No stitch in my side.
No exhaustion whatsoever.
If anything, I kept feeling better the longer I ran.
Lighter.
Stronger.
The forest blurred beside me while my heartbeat stayed calm and even.
An hour later, I finally stopped near the fence line bordering the woods.
I bent slightly, waiting for exhaustion to catch up, but it never did.
My breathing remained steady, and barely any sweat clung to my skin.
Silence settled around me except for distant dripping water from the trees.
Slowly, I looked down at my hands, then back toward the dark forest.
“Okay,” I said quietly, a nervous laugh escaped me.
“That’s definitely not normal.” The words disappeared into the mist, but no answer came back.
Only the cold woods staring silently back at me.