Anise paced the floor in her bedroom, unsettled and frustrated. Her blood boiled under her skin, her bones aching. Her breath came in fast, short spurts and her heart raced wildly inside of her chest, her ribcage doing its best to contain the fury. She lurched onto her bed, muffling her screams deep into her pillow. Feeling the need to release more, she shoved her hand under her mattress, revealing a sharp chef knife she’d taken from the kitchen. She plunged it’s blade deep into the soft pillow repeatedly, shredding the material to dust.

Frantic, she raced to the bathroom to splash cold water against her sweaty face. Her clammy hands shook as she turned the faucet. Her pupils were wide, covering the creamy brown of her iris in a cold shade of black. Her mind reeled as she stared down her own reflection. I’ll show her, she thought to herself, her skin crawling. I’ll show her.

Grey knew the moment was upon him. With an evil grin he moved slowly across the platform of the church, quiet like a mouse. He tiptoed along the rows of pews until he reached the heavy wooden door. Quietly and with purpose he turned the key and locked the door. The bolt slid into place with a loud bang. And so it begins, Grey thought to himself as he ducked in the shadowy hall surrounded by thick velvet curtains.