9- Explanation in Writing.

Forcing their way inside Dylan's condo, Quayleigh shut the door before the stench drifted far enough into the hall to alert the neighbor.

"Shit that's bad," she remarked, her hand pressed tight over her nose and mouth, "Try to breathe through your mouth and let's get some windows open to air it out."

She couldn't even take a moment to examine the surroundings as she rushed through the living room to the balcony door and pushed it open as wide as it would go. Stepping outside, she took a much-needed, deep breath before turning back around to find Tau standing in the doorway. "What is that smell? That can't just be the garbage."

"I'm sorry. I struggled when I was here. I didn't know what to do with the body, so I put it in a bag. The note said to put them by the door, so I did, but they're still here."

"There was a body?"

"Yes, in the bowl, covered in blood. It was a rabbit. I didn't know it would be like this."

"No, it's okay. Just go and help me open the windows. The sooner we get this place aired out and cleaned up the sooner we can start looking for answers."

With a nod, Tau turned around and moved throughout the space opening the windows as she had asked. Quayleigh had never been in a place that big before. Two of her apartments could fit inside the living room alone, but there was also, a galley kitchen, spa like bathroom, laundry room, and dining area located under the partial second floor where the master suite, second bedroom, and a fair-sized office was. The furnishings were extravagant, from the leather sofas, fur rugs, marble tables, and 80inch flat screen TV, to the cherry wood dining table with matching hutch and buffet. Sadly, however, it appeared as if it had been ransacked, and worst of all was the encrusted human waste on the piles of dirty cloths stuck to the tile floor of the enormous bathroom. Dishes, left uncleaned, piled on the counter, were now covered in mold, and a bag of garbage that hadn't been taken out was rotting near the entryway door. Presumably, Dylan meant to put the garbage out in the hallway next to the door, but either worded it strangely or failed to mention the hallway part altogether. There were also books and papers littering the floor of the living space, and in the middle of the large, round, marble coffee table, was a massive serving bowl of dried-up blood, sitting on a silk tablecloth that had runes burned into it, along with various tools that had been used in the ritual.

Heading into the kitchen, Quayleigh scoured the cupboards and closets for any cleaning supplies she could find. Over the next hour they managed to clean up most of the problems and following the instructions Dylan had left scattered throughout the place they got rid of the garbage and figured out how to work the dishwasher and laundry machines. It wasn't perfect by a long shot, but with the offending problems resolved and the air filled with the overpowering scent of cleaning products, the place, at least, felt safer to be in.

"I've gathered all the books and papers and put them on the table for you," Tau said as he joined her in the laundry room as she finished emptying the washing machine into the dryer, having only a few towels to wash that had been spared the same fate as the clothing, which, well beyond saving, had all been bagged and thrown out with the garbage.

"Awesome, thanks. I'm just about done here. I can hardly wait to finally get to the reason we came here in the first place," she replied as she turned on the dryer before following him back out into the large living room.

"What should we be looking for?"

"To be honest I'm not quite sure. To start, we should separate the papers between research and instruction notes that he left for you. Then, hopefully we can find anything that explains exactly what it was that he was trying to accomplish."

As they separated out the papers, dividing the research notes from the instructional ones, Tau came across an envelope with Francesca written on it.

"This was on the table when I woke up," he said as he handed it to her.

"And yet I doubt Francesca is going to come and get it anytime soon," she replied as she opened the envelope and pulled out the letter, reading it out loud.

"My beloved Francesca. I hope you are the one reading this. Otherwise, this is just a sad suicide note, and I screwed up somehow. I know you're probably scared right now, and for good reason. I imagine it must be strange to be in the body of the man who killed you. It's been just over a year. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. It was my fault. I know it was my fault. But my life ended that night with you. This is the only thing I could do to try and make it right. I know it's not perfect. It will never be perfect, but at least you are alive, and I am gone. It's the way things always should have been. That body is yours now. Do what you want with it. You can turn yourself back into a woman again, if you think it would make it easier for you. Just never get the tattoo on your back removed. I don't know what will happen to you if you do. I'm not sure if any of this is going to make sense. I don't know if you're even going to read this. I don't even know if you're going to remember anything, or if this is all going to be wrong, but I had to try something. I had to do something worthwhile with my life, and bringing you back was the only thing I wanted to do. I've left notes around to try and help you get used to things. At least until you can go and speak to your family. Take this letter and the papers on the table to my mother, and she will be able to explain everything to yours. She won't be mad. I promise, she'll understand. All of your banking information is in the notebook in the drawer under the laptop. Keys and wallet are in my favorite hoodie by the door. Cars down in slip 24A with a full tank. I cancelled the maids for the next six months only to give you time without worrying about being interrupted or bothered, but the numbers on the fridge and you can call them when you're ready for them to come back. All the other important information is on the laptop. I set everything to direct withdrawal and there's more than enough in that account to last you the rest of your life, and then some. Cellphone is on the charger in the bedroom. I wish there would have been a way for us to be together. I guess in a way we are though. I hope this is enough for you to forgive me. For your family to forgive me. I just want you to forgive me Francesca. Please forgive me. I love you. I'll never stop loving you. Dylan." Tears stained the paper and the penmanship had waivered near the end making it more difficult to read.

"So, it seems this was his doing after all," Quayleigh commented as she set down the letter.

"Is that to the woman in the photos?"

"Yeah, that would be my guess. Based on this letter and that sigil on your back, it's safe to assume he was trying to exchange his soul for hers. Instead, the magic killed him, and when you showed up to claim his soul, you touched him and here we are."

"He didn't know that she would have been returned to the river by now."

"Shit," she muttered as she began to frantically scan through the pile of research papers.

"What is it?"

She sat back and anxiously rubbed her face in her hands, "It's an exchange symbol. He wanted to exchange himself for her, but instead he trapped you."

"I don't understand."

Quays shook her head and took his hands holding them tight. "Tau, I think the ritual worked. Not as intended, but with you instead of Francesca. I think when you ended up in his body, he ended up in yours. What if that's why no one is look for you? What if he's there, as you?"

Tau thought for a moment before replying, "We need to speak to Death."

"Yeah, we do. It's also getting late, and we need to get back. I'll go get the laptop and notebook. You should go pack a bag of cloths. Unless you would rather stay here? Now that it's clean it's really nice. And technical it's yours."

"I'd rather be where you are."

"If I had a choice, it would definitely be here, but everything we need is back at my place, so at least for tonight, we should probably stay there."

"Ok."

"Good, then go pack a bag, and bring a pillow. Oh, and we are definitely taking your car."

Heading up the stairs to the second floor, Quayleigh entered into the office while Tau went into the master suite. She easily spotted the laptop on the desk and opened the drawer beneath it spotting the notebook Dylan had written about it. Sure enough, inside were a list of passwords, websites, user id's, banking information, phone numbers and contacts. Taking the book and the laptop she joined Tau in Dylan's room.

"What should I pack? And what should I pack it in?" he asked as he looked around the room, seemingly dumbfounded as to what to do next.

Quayleigh set down the book and computer on the bed and made her way into the closet that was the size of her living room. Nothing in the room had been touched since well before Tau had arrived, a thin layer of dust covering every surface. Despite the extremely accurate temperature controls and ventilation, there was still a faint amount of particulate that could penetrate a room like this over the course of a long period of time.

"It seems you were a business man. These suits are worth thousands of dollars. I could sell one of them and live comfortably for a year," she scoffed as she looked around. Going down the left side of the closet, she opened the drawers to find expensive watches, belts, ties, and jewelry. Expensive luxury name brand clothing lined the racks, each on its own cushioned hanger. There were several pairs of dress shoes, trainers, boots, and sandals. While shorts and pants were neatly folded in the drawers. At the back of the closet there was a set of his and hers matching luggage, and the right side of the closet, back to the entrance, was lined with woman's clothing of the same caliber, assumingly it all belonged to the late Francesca, packed in more tightly, and with an entire wall of designer shoes and matching bags. Why it hadn't been claimed by her family, Quayleigh didn't know.

Grabbing the suitcase, she rolled it into the bedroom and laid it down. Opening it up there was a smaller bag inside.

"This should be all you need for a couple of days," she said as she handed it to him and headed over to the dresser.

Opening the drawers, she found his supply of boxers, socks, t-shirts, and jeans. Normal looking clothing, that Dylan had probably worn more frequently, but with a superior price tag. There was nothing in this place that didn't cost more than she made in a week. Filling the bag he was holding, with enough to get him through the next three days, she went into the en-suite and grabbed his shaving kit, finding a traveling pack of his preferred shampoo, conditioner, and soap, all of which were luxury brands that had to be special ordered. Strangely though, when she looked into the shower, everything in there could have been bought from the pharmacy down the road. Putting the traveling pack back, she returned to the bedroom where Tau was sitting on the bed waiting for her.

"Here, this should be everything you need. Let's grab the papers downstairs for now. We'll grab the books the next time we come back. And don't forget your pillow."

Finished upstairs they headed back down to the main floor and gathered the last of what they wanted.

"When we come back, we're going to have to clean out the fridge, but for now, I think we're done here. We should make it back before Shane arrives if we leave now. Although, if we're lucky, this will be one of the times he shows up late."

"Why does he buy your food?"

"Because I don't have a way to get to the grocery store, and technically, I pay him to do it. It helps him out, and he helps me out in return. It's what friends do."

"If you have a car, would that make it easier for you to go the store?"

"Yeah, I suppose it would, but cars are expensive. I only have my license because Garren insisted that I get one, but I've never been able to afford an actual car. Besides, like I said, Shane needs the extra money to help out his family, so I don't mind paying him to help me out. It's cheaper than gas and insurance."

"You don't have to worry about any of that anymore."

"Look, borrowing a car, that is technically yours, for a couple of days is one thing, taking it permanently feels like stealing."

"But it is mine. I am Dylan Kirkwood."

"Yeah, I suppose you are," she replied as she moved to the counter and grabbed the keys, "but that still makes it your car, which you can't drive, because you don't know how. And despite who you are on the outside, to me, you're still Tauluthet."