I have a beta for my Sherlock fanfictions. I need to check with her to see if she will do my Casper fics. If she won't I'll post so in case there out people out there who would like to be my beta.

Fiona McFadden grew up poor. Her family barley had enough food to go around. Her four brothers and two parents were struggling. That was a long time ago far away in Ireland. So long ago and so far away.

It felt like a life time ago.

To tell the truth it was.

Fiona had already lived, died, and been reborn. She was living her second life.

During the great potato blight her family had fled Ireland along with so many others. What little food they had was taken to pay their rent. They had to leave or starve. They had settled in Boston.

Fiona hadn't lived much longer after their arrival. The living situation was so bad in the crowed town house that she got sick with Scarlet Fever. Of course little was known about the disease at the was little her family could do for her. She died in their loving arms. She was only fourteen.

Her spirit went home to Ireland. She began to haunt the small home she had grown up in. She was alone and sad.

She didn't really remember her life. All she knew was that she felt like she had been robbed. She didn't get to live her life. It was taken from her. Stolen.

Years passed and the anger consumed her. She wanted another shot at life. She wanted to be free to make her own choices. She would do anything for it. She would agree to anything for it.

In was in her moment of despair that the devil himself had appeared to her. Having been raising an catholic she knew she would be damning her soul. She didn't care. She wanted another chance.

Fiona sold her soul. In return she was giving another shot at life. She was brought to American as a beautiful twenty three year old woman. She had dark red hair and the most amazing violet eyes. Her whole life came back to her. She remembered it. She remembered every detail.

After first it had been wonderful. She went to Los Angles and started from the bottom. She was waiting tables at a crummy restaurant and living in a half way house. She was poor but happy. She had food and roof over her head.

Everything seemed to go to easy for her all at once. Her boss offered her five hundred dollars just to sleep with him. Of course she did it. She felt like such a bad girl. It was going against everything she was taught as a child.

He talked to some people he knew at an escort service and before she knew what was happening she was making thousands of dollars a night.

She was like a phoenix. She rose from the ashes.

After only three years in Los Angles she had a beautiful penthouse and more money than she knew what to do with. Fiona was only twenty six and she was already regretting her decision. She had everything she thought she wanted. She and her brothers were brought up in a strict catholic home and she hadn't been allowed to do a lot of things. She finally had a chance to have fun. She had been in and out of rehab for cocaine and was still struggling with staying out of the booze. She was still a well respected call girl.

Despite the fact she was a call girl she still wore a cross around her neck and covered her head with a kerchief. It didn't feel right not to.

She thought the success would make her happy but she wasn't happy. In fact she hated herself. She hated the choice she made and she wished she could change it. She knew she didn't have a choice anymore. She had made her bed and now she had to lie in it.

Of course she knew there was no getting out a deal with the devil. Only God could intervene and break that contract.

Fiona laid down on her bed and picked up a framed picture that sat on her beside table. It was the only picture she had manged to hold onto of her family. Cameras were rare in her day.

Her four brothers and her sat in front of the church. There was Jonathan at the front. He was the oldest and always protected them the best he could. Then there was Whiskey her twin brother. He had a temper but he was loving. He was trying to hide behind Jonathan. Of course there was Lorcan. The boy had always been over weight even during the blight.

Next was the youngest of them all Reilly. He looked so sad in the picture. He knew they had to leave but he was still scared of the trip. Fiona sat on the very edge of the picture on the highest step leading into the church. She wore a lace head covering that was long and thrown over her shoulder. It practically hide her face.*

She sighed. She really missed her brothers. She missed her mother and father. She wondered if they had passed on. Where they in heaven? Had they died untimely deaths like her or had they lived full lives. She wondered about them so much.

She had an appointment in less than a hour and she needed to get ready. She put the frame down on the bed and got up.

Fiona flicked on the TV as she disappeared into the bathroom. She liked to listen to the current news as she got ready.

"The current situation is leaving all politicians in the area in shock," a reporter was saying. "Now time for the strange news. It seems Maine is living up to his reputation as the most haunted state and it isn't Steven King's doing this time. Paranormal investigators are in an uproar about the Whipstaff manor. According to current residence it is haunted by the McFadden Family that lived there during the turn of the century."

That caught Fiona's attention. She peeked her head out of the bathroom and looked at the television. There were showing a picture of a large mansion. Fiona was taken back. It was an amazing house. She couldn't imagine her family building something so amazing.

"Several reports have tried to get access to the house but the current owners refuse access," the reporter said. "Two people died in a tragic accident there six months ago. The ghost of three adult men and a young child have been reported there for years."

Fiona smirked. Three men. Perhaps one of them was family or maybe all four. She couldn't resist checking out. She could take a vacation from the escort service. She made a quick call to the escort service and then another to the airport.

She put the photo into her suitcase and stared piling clothes inside. She knew there was a chance no one would believe she was who she was. The picture was the only evidence she had. Of course she could tell them all about their lives but they might not even remember their lives. They might think she was making it all up.

Oh well. She wouldn't know until she tried.

*This picture is supposed to be taken right before they leave Ireland. Here are their ages

Jonathan 19

Lorcan -14 - Fatso

Whiskey - 13 - Stretch

Fiona - 13

Reilly - 10 - Stinkie