Seventh Twilight

"I DIDN'T DO IT! PLEASE, SOMEONE BELIEVE ME!" She screamed as she was dragged down the hall. Somewhere- somewhere everything had gone horribly wrong. Everything was so messed up, everything! She couldn't remember it all, the drugs were working- quickly. Everything was wrong... everything blurring together like watercolors in rain. He was standing right there- right there in front of her, and then Amor, and Kalla. He was standing right there! Where was he? "Please. Someone." She was losing it all. Memories, consciousness, the strength to tell them who had done everything... made everything so- so- "Izac. where are you?"

Big white doors were coming up and the people around her finally picked her up and carried her like a child. They were screaming at each other, a low, humming language that never stopped when their lips did. Those doors again, she was closer to them and she tried to get away, her mind was screaming that she was going to hit them- that anything beyond those doors was going to kill her. Tears were falling down her face, everything was wrong.

Something had happened, something had turned itself around and played out so differently than she had intended it to be. It wasn't supposed to end like this, she was supposed to win and save everyone. Everything was gone, lost. So messed up... She was supposed to win...



"Is this the murder weapon?" His voice was hallow and uncaring as he lit another cigarette and asked the obvious. The younger man, filled with as much as the same dull, bitter boredom as his superior, dropped the blood stained axe sealed tight in a plastic evidence bag curtly on the coffee stained wooden table. More smoke filled the room as a second cigarette glowed to life. The two smoldering embers and an old chain tied lamp hanging from the ceiling seemed to be focused on one thing only; the table.

"Couldn't quite call it that, yet. There's no bodies, only missing people." The young man stated, but nodded anyway. Someone was dead, or at least hurt. There was too much blood in the equation for it to be otherwise. He looked up to his partner who was casually fixed into thought, staring down at the raw handle and shining, red blade.

"No bodies, huh?" He asked only mildly concerned. They would turn up, always did. Either in the river of buried somewhere. The dogs would find them, sooner or later. He straightened from his slumped over position on the table and wiped his balding hairline with his sleeve. "What are they calling it? Where's the girl?"



She was thrown into the room quite harshly by a police woman who had no intention of being gentle. Already she was hated for something she didn't do, or maybe it had all been her fault, there was plenty of blood on her hands, and most of it wasn't hers. She tried to speak before the bars were shut, apologize or scream her innocence, but only managed to whisper "wrong" into the cold air. She was shivering from the concrete below her, but too weak to move to the bed that seemed so far out of reach. Where had everything gone to? The trees and the dirt, her house? Her mother and father? Where did everything go?

She glanced up at the ceiling and remembered why she had been fighting all this in the first place. She was going to die if she was left alone with it, she was going to die and no one would ever know who killed them or were the bodies were. She knew.... she knew everything. She looked across the room and squinted at the clock that was blurred and darting across the wall. She forced her eyes to focus more and she got the time; 6:58. Her heart sank, she was going to lose.

Large footsteps crept their way across the hall leading to her cell. The shadow moved through the bars with ease and smiled. "Izac..." She breathed, falling further into an unsettling darkness. He knelt down by her and slowly put a hand on her shoulder. Her eyes went back into her head, and she went away. No one even noticed- everything was gone.

"It's almost time to go..." He snickered into her ear. It was over, everything was over.



"The Parlor Incident, Sir." The young man answered, his cigarette suddenly clenched between his teeth as his superior laughed and shook his head, turning his back to his partner.

"Incident, huh? Cruger sure does know how to sum down a situation. Five people go missing and an axe covered in their blood turns up, the prime suspect of it all being a little girl- that's an incident to him?" He scoffed, drew in a long, deep breath of nicotine and blew it out through his nostrils to calm himself. "Sounds more like a tragedy to me." He let the whisper rumble through him. Damn fucking government cry-babies. Always butting in. He should have been the one to handle this case in the first place, not Cruger.

The detective inhaled again, glancing back at the young man who was still and silent. He didn't see the rigid appearance his partner's stance had taken, nor did he feel the sudden change in the air. He kept talking, oblivious, turning back to the photos of the crime scene on the wall. There was nothing there but a lot of dirt and blood. "And what have they done with the suspect? Where's the girl?"

A faint thud echoed in the room along with a whispery laughter, a snicker. Hissed like a snake.

He stiffened slightly, ready for everything to go wrong as his fingers grazed the metal of his gun.

"Ronnal?" The man asked with his back to the young man. He slowly turned, annoyance and curiosity in his eyes due to the silence of his subordinate, but as he turned, he saw someone he didn't recognize. His eyes lit up in fear and adrenaline seeing nothing more than a shadow, the glow of an ember and the axe that had once been on the table, now glinting in a hand, dripping with blood and begging for more. There was a body on the floor, fresh and draining. The detective gawked at the legs of jeans and shoes that were lit by the lamp over the table, and dared himself to follow the rest of the body into the dark where his partner's face was forever in shock, throat cut cleanly. He shook where he stood, everything was wrong. "...Ronnal?"

The shadow looked up with dark, glaring eyes, and then it teethed a twisted smile, biting the cigarette in it's mouth in half and sending the ember to the cold concrete floor. "The girl, dear detective-" It grinned with pleasure as the shadow felt the axe in its palm. It felt so right, everything was right. It took a step closer, closing it's eyes as it stepped into the dim light. What a fool, being all alone with a murderer, how stupid. How- entertaining...



She looked up and saw it in his eyes. Predator and prey, everything that had been promised. She had failed, and now it wasn't her life anymore. The axe glinted as she heard the words the weapon spoke, falling into flesh and splattering blood across her face.

"Game over."



"The girl's dead."

The axe fell into flesh with the sound of a gunshot...