“No man knows, till he has suffered from the night,

how sweet and dear to his heart and eye, the morning can be.”

Jonathan Harker's Journal






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6960374 By Swedishgreengoblin-db96hl7 by SwedishGreenGoblin

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58adf6e79e84144f658d26a6adc99bd6 by SwedishGreenGoblin

wew by SwedishGreenGoblin

58adf6e79e84144f658d26a6adc99bd6 by SwedishGreenGoblin


places │objects│characters │organizations│other



Castle Dracula Tomb of Thanatos The Village Carfax AbbeyAbandoned building



Abraham Van HelsingJonathan HarkerMina Harker'Mortician' RobertWenfriedThe BridesRenfield

Javier Vergara│Dr. John Seward│


The Order of the Dragon The Order


The Demeter Final Death







Born doomed, the young Robin Harker was simply destined to become a vampire.

And while he fell in battle, he rose again as a bloodsucking fiend, taking the fall for his mother, unwittingly.


 Portrayed by:  William Moseley















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Fantasy, Romance, Violence, Realistic, Rated R, 18+, Gore, Comedy, Action, Adventure

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  • A laugh that was not fit for the moment rang out of Alice's mouth to that. "Nasty conk? Ya let yer numpty fish shaggin' bitches crowd me, then ya wanna say bloody sorry fer it? Git fucked ya soddin' leech." She hissed at him. Yeah, she could still feel her head throbbing. Still felt her body weak. Still felt the foul stench in the air that would make any lesser person spill the contents of their stomachs out onto the floor. It was thankful that she didn't have anything on hers or else she might be in some trouble from that as well. 

    Was he just going to stand there next? She stared at him from where she was, weakly pressed and holding herself up. She knew that if she wanted to get out of here there might have to be some tailored degree on working with him, as much as her pride defiled the idea, she was in no place to deny such an act to accept it.

    She stood as still as she could despite the shaking in her limbs and the throbbing of her temples that made her eyes twitch and squint so often. 

    Alice might have some bruising here and there. She had a notch on her head the size of her fist most likely for one thing. Possibly some internal bruising, or something that might have happened in her sleep if she wasn't lucky in that aspect. The main point of it was that hte huntress was not yet dead which was something to be happy about. She did need food, and water. That was the most understood thing that she knew within this moment by far.

    "I don' give a damn that its sapien er not. I just want to get off this fuckin' island and back to me home." Back to people she cared to be around and yell at. None of this bullhonky that was considered a Hell in her eyes. And they flashed a little of hell when she heard the metallic scrape of the latch turning, she waited for the door to unlatch and pull away. In her hand, the rusty hammer was gripped beneath the fabric that kept it away from her flesh, she allowed it to be visible so that he would know just exactly what she was packing and that she was more than willing to continue to fight even if it were to her very last breath. 

    "Ya wanna test a carnered animal aboot if they may stake ya with a bloody hammer er not? Am a fuckin' hunter, did ya knoo that, laddie? Did it ever concern ya why that fookin' loaf of a leech brought me on that damn boat like that? What me, some martal girl must've done to piss 'im off enough to trap me in this damn place? Er was that just yer oppertunity to have yer goons trap me up in this slaughterhouse?" Cursing him out was taking farr too much breath and energy that she did not have. "I don' need a hammer to fuckin' hurt ya. I keep me hammer. It stays. No' a big problem to ya if it ain't nothin' that ya wanna be scared of, right? That, er ya cannae open the door an' just let me leave. I don' want anythin' to do with yer people er you fer that matter. I'll find me help on me own. Just let me the fuck oot of here already."


     'Shit, oh no! No, no, no, no.'


                                 Underneath him, she thrashed about wildly somewhat, while her head at times shook back and forth, side to side, as if to attempt in lifting it from the mud.  Throughout it all, the brunette heard everything he spoke, and felt his movements to accompany it—That feel of his claw, shredding a line down her clothing upon her back, it caused the most disgusting of shudders to make its down her body.  He was disgusting, and his movements were repulsive in every sense of the word.  The sooner she wasn’t trapped like this under his body weight, the better.  What she did next? Legs of her lifted, well tried to, as far as they could go, where they attempted to wrap themselves around his body, just somewhere that was within reach to latch onto, as if to twist his body angle awkwardly, so she could flip him off one way or another.  And then to hopefully kill him.

                                 Wishful thinking it would be, the angle wasn’t right in which to grab him and flip him off.  So, instead, the strength was briefly found elsewhere, and her head lifted from the muck, while she spluttered out some words, muck and more being released with it, while she coughed some, if not all of it out, "Embrace it!  Suck it up—You- y--you will forever….," cough, cough, splutter, splutter, more of the filthy muck falling from her mouth, as her lips briefly twisted in disgust before she continued, "….be an underling, you hear me."  Just like that however, almost out of nowhere, the grip lessened considerably, the hold he had on her gone, while the brunette thinks in a rather hesitant manner, 'What the hell?!'  The vampire’s words cut off, her last ones to him probably never heard, and that body of his rolling off her, to then lie in the mud beside her.  Still not aware of what had happened, she was in a state of shock, of horror, of disgust, and perhaps more as she shuddered.  And flipping from her front to her back ever so slowly, she then pushed him off her completely, now turning him face down, keeping his face in that mud perpetually.  'Good Riddance.  I am sure your master will miss you, but there are more of you where you came from, so maybe he won't.'  A small, final thought process of hers, before she let him leave her mind fast, because he wouldn't around to bother her anymore.

                                 A little more of a splutter and cough would occur on her part.  Then out of nowhere again, the brunette heard this. 'Damn, I’m a good shot.  And, hey.'  The words caused her to blink, while she finally allowed herself to look up, and come face-to-face with a woman.  Though it wouldn’t be seen, due to the mud covering most, if not all her delicate features, a look of disbelief was shown, and a perfectly sculpted brow quirked into the woman’s direction, as she repeated in an exhaled, lightly-labored, breathless manner.  Her return greeting, it came out as question as well, "Hey?"


    'I’m sorry, but how-h-how, did you find me? How did you get here? Why?'


                                 Those words that followed the 'Hey,' were inner thoughts, nothing more, nothing less.  Should she be weary of this woman, or grateful for her arrival, here? Grateful of course, that a given, though she was still on edge, on high alert, and so much more, understandably so.  Whether or not the woman knew or sensed she would have questions, it wasn’t known, but for now, ‘Hey,’ was all that Catherine could manage to speak.  And, with that out of the way, the woman slowly yet surely rose to her feet, mud, and muck, just anything and everything dripping from her slender frame, yet she was standing, she was alive, and that was all that mattered.  Catherine did not offer her name, nor much of anything else in that moment, though if it was needed, then she would let the other woman know it.  At that point however, all that the brunette really wanted to do, was get out there, and forget that it had happened, well for the most part.  If another incident like this did occur in the near of far future however, then she would be prepared, she had to be—One way, or another, it would be done, or so she hoped—For now though, the woman stood there, beside the now dead vampire, and before the woman, while awaiting the mystery woman’s (whatever her name should be), response.

                                 "Thank you," Catherine offered her sincere gratitude, while letting the smallest of smiles be seen.  Yet from there, she truly left all of what else would be said, or done in the other woman’s court, while watching her closely.  Questions of course were swarming over and over in Catherine’s head, but for them to be asked, that was for another time.  Sometime soon, if not here and now.


  • The sorceress did not hesitate to follow the young man deeper into the forest. Curiosity was driving her decisions at this point but it would run out once her patience started to wear thin. This was turning into a scavenger hunt that mixed illusion with reality. As they moved further and further into the forest Maleficent looked around at the various trees and vegetation lining the path. She could feel the breeze on her face and the various twigs and sticks tugging at the jagged edges of her robe. It would take more than a little discomfort to end this journey.

    "Exactly how long is this going to take?", she inquired after about an hour.

    Maleficent had always enjoyed her walks through the forest just outside her estate. She used them to think and more often than not to plan the suffering of others. These little walks of hers never lasted more than thirty minutes and at this point she felt as though they had been walking for hours. Everything seemed to look the same. Were they going in circles?

    A scowl formed on her face when the vampire asked her to wait. What exactly were they waiting for? Her yellow eyes watched the creature like a hawk as he placed his jacket against one of the stones. "Why are we waiting here?" If only Maleficent could see where they were going. She possessed the ability to teleport but she had to be able to see where she was going. Twenty minutes turned into an hour and before long Maleficent became frustrated. She tried to remain calm and focus on other matters in order to keep herself from snapping. Just as she was about to wander the villainess heard the sound of hooves moving toward her. Soon enough a pair of stallions pulling a carriage behind them appeared.

    "The Eastern shores?", she hissed. "I have no desire to travel by boat."

    Centuries ago the fairy could have flown there. She recalled traveling vast distances through the air without even breaking a sweat. "Very well." Maleficent could not help but growl in annoyance as she stepped up into the carriage and took the seat. The sight of various snacks managed to catch her by surprise. This was going to be a much longer journey than she had anticipated. If the destination was not worth the wait, there would be hell to pay.

  • (Well. Val has a dislike of vampires. Not enough to tare em apart but it may be a good start. She will be going through a major milestone in her storyline here in less than a month which will kinda wipe the slate clean when it's over considering it's the death of two of my friend's characters including your enemy. She's a weapon smith if Dracula would need anything crafted? What's your take so far?

  • Regardless of the lack of food that she might have not had, or the scarce amount of sleep she'd been able to wink over the course of days, there was something that she was capable of, and that was adrenaline. If she could master it and get it coursing through her body then she could have it, she could win. Her body naturally produced it. While it did not provide her food and water, it gave her strength that she did not know that she possessed in order to help in some way to free her from the dreaded place she'd gotten herself into. 

    Alice was tired of being trapped, beaten to knock out and starving. She wanted tea, she wanted him, she wanted out of the filthy place and back to where things made sense. she had no clue why they would keep her here if it was not to kill her or eat her like they likely would do to the poor sack of shit here. 

    There was no gun on the cop, as she had expected. And while there was rusted chains, an even rustier hammer, there were no weapons. Her mouth pinched into a scowl, looking over the poor block on the table, the scoffed. Cop guy got himself killed here, what would that say about her? Would she ever make it out herself?

    She widened her span of what could be a weapon. Were there any chairs? While shaky and dead walking on her feet she maybe could break the leg off of one. Only she didn't have the time to really do it, she needed something now. 

    Spying the hammer and once more the cops clothing, she walked to the discarded cloth, grabbed the thickest material, then walked to the tool and picked it up that way. Wrapping the cloth around the rusty handle and tied it off, ready with a weapon. She was just about to relax just a little again when she heard the raw scrape of metal, and she turned to the door that wasn't budging at all and her eyes narrowed. 

    "Me head is poundin'." Bluntly she answered. She kept her mouth in a line, yet ready at any turn to spit venom at him no matter what it was she asked for nothing at this point could phase her otherwise. "Let me oot of here. I have no reason to be stuck here fer you or anyone else. Am not associated nor do I wanna be with the likes of you lot. Let. Me. Go." Her hand tightened around the hammer. She wasn't begging, or asking. She just wanted to leave. She wouldn't speak a bloody word of this to anyone if that's what he wanted to hear. This island gave her the creeps, and he did even more on that note about it.


                        Throughout her escape plan and route, the brunette listened to his words, while escaping dust, objects and more that would fall, or crumble down upon her.  And, all while on high alert, plus survival mode.  All the while, she would try to prevent it from getting anywhere near her nose, or mouth to then prevent it from going further, and to then fill her lungs.  Covering her mouth and nose area from time to time with that black leather jacket covered arm, or just her spare hand alone, while attempting to hold the makeshift weapon, and run, but it did not help the matter, not one bit.  A cough here, another one or two coughs there.  A semi, brief splutter there, and on it would continue, right up until she was free from the dusty mess and more that the monster above her, or to the side, or wherever he was had been chasing her.  That could only mean one thing, and that he was closer to his prey, AKA the woman, the detective, and that brunette beauty, than he had been before, and that meant strike.  Or almost strike.  Did it not?

                        All too soon, her jogging slowed, and with heart racing slowly, yet quickly at the same time, she didn’t show him sign of defeat, not yet, at least.  Alongside fear, determination was written all over her features, and it coursed throughout her body also, which caused the woman to turn little by little to face the being, that monster that had been pursuing her.  It wasn’t who she had originally thought, once coming to face him, which didn’t surprise her, considering he got all his minions, those underlings in his family to do his dirty work.  She was considered dirty work, and needed to be gotten rid of it, one way, or another.  And the task ahead? It was his, the one she barely recognized, but had shot apparently.  The more of his story that was revealed however, that image of him came to her, his face flashed within her mind, and she immediately spotted his position on that night where they had all positioned themselves around her apartment.  That night, where she had been safe.  It didn’t matter on how this ended - Even in fear, her tone remained cool, calm and collected, her words soft-spoken as well, though filled with a hint of edge and a little more to it, while she gave it to him, she let it have it all.  With soft, though partially heavy breathing, the brunette watched him as she spoke.


    "Hey underling, I have some things I need to tell you, first, just you get your information straight.  One: My name is Catherine, not love, or my love.  And, two: Regarding your story, poor diddums.  You got over it, at least.  If you want a repeat though, you should have just said so.  Fortunately for you, my weapon is not on me now, but I would use it again if I could.  I promise you that!"


                        The vampire before her spoke in Spanish, and she replied in English.  It didn’t matter what was understood however, or what fell over deaf ears, because all too soon, it was survival of the fittest.  ‘No crucifix.  No garlic.  No holy water, and no stake, well not exactly.’  If those were indeed weaknesses of a vampire.  All too soon however, everything except the fight ahead was pushed out of mind, out of sight.  With his words, with him initiating the first part of the attack and fight, Catherine positioned herself in a stance one way, or another, and dodged movement one, then possibly movement two and three from him, while she threw, or manoeuvred her head back, or her body at different times and angles, positioning them in such a way, where she could escape the blow and attack he initiated.  It succeeded, well briefly.  Without waiting on him to finish, or continue, the woman managed to throw in a good punch or two herself, one directly to his face, nose area, and following, the brunette shoved a solid elbow blow to his throat, while she put herself in the moment.  And, from there, if there was a brief gap between them, she gave it her all and performed a roundhouse kick, where she shoved a hard, decent kick into his lower gut area, then at his middle, yet while that probably helped her, it would be her downfall as well.  Her footing would be lost from that plan of attack possibly, but more so from his earlier movements (though it simply delayed).  And, with a groan, she ended up falling after having a fire fuel her, even temporarily.  With a rather loud thud, if it was possible, her head hit the floor underneath as well as her entire body, where she received a good hit and throw around.  Scrambling for her weapon, or ensuring it was still in her hands, while she looked up at him then, though her mind displayed mental images, replaying two certain parts of her life, the two most prominent times at least, when she had almost been dead.  She briefly saw herself as that nineteen years old, and then again at twenty-nine years old, both times in this lying on her back position, while she looked up at her attacker, preparing for the worst, and death, due to blurred vision of hers.

    ‘And now, here she was again, or was she?  Could she overcome this? Or, was third time the charm, meaning for once and for all, those who had been after her for years, even if not them directly, well got their chance to end her life, for good?’

                        No, I’m not dead, not yet, at least.  I’m not giving up, not without a fight.’  And with that, if it was not too late, the brunette beauty in her head to toe, mud-covered like state, began to spring back up, before he could spring down onto her, well if she even made it onto her own two feet in time, that was.  If she had been quick enough, that was yet to be seen.


  • "Me spirit? Did'ja really think I care aboot some pathetic shit like spirit?! Yer fuckin' kidnappin' me, fer what? Let me bloody go already! Am tired of this fookin' island already!" She lost her sight of it. Lost her stop. Because the next thing that she knew she felt and heard the clunk of something hard on her head. 

    Her eyes rolled, her jaw went slack, the anger left her face like a wave as her body wobbled and she tottered to the hardwood. It shook under her. She was at her final straw. Her arms shook, her temple throbbed. She couldn't keep this up. Her body wouldn't let her, she felt so betrayed by it. She had enough strength to roll onto her back and look whoever was taking her out in the eye, and making a silent pledge to kill them later. After that and she was knocked out. All the lines of anger left her face, only in sleep was she calm. 


    She felt like a ton of trucks landed a load of bricks after bricks on top of her when she woke. She was shaking, shivering, and her stomach was threatening to eat itself for the fact that the acid inside of it had nothing to eat from, nothing to break down. It would start to eat away at her eventually, but not now. 

    Alice had seen brutality before, but it didn't make her stomach from turning itself around upon the sight and the smell. Her arm came up in an attempt to cover her nose. But the stench could be tasted foully in the air as though it were a green cloud was there on her lips to taste. Her face contorted when it didn't help her. 

    Instead, she slid from whatever surface she was on and used whatever she could get her hands on to lift herself up. Her legs buckled under her, and she winced whenever too much strain was given to her about attempting to stand up. It took too many damn efforts. Yet as she did she was looking at her surroundings, it wasn't even to see what poor sod was nailed to the board and murdered there, likely some long time ago. And frankly, she didn't care about him, she only worried about herself. She was looking for a weapon to use.

    She caught where the guy was from though. She was searching his clothing at that time. Seeing if he still possibly held his gun. If an American wound up here, then what the hell and why were they holding people captive? If for meat, why were they wasting him? Whatever, not her problem. When either she found a gun or didn't, she still needed something that they would see or something to protect her fully. The back of her head continued to throb regardless of how little light was in the room.

    She knew one thing, and it was that she had to get out of there. And that was her next task above all.

  • Image result for charly jordan gif

    Well, aren't you a little batty

    (I'm hilarious.)

  • Introduction.



    Land of the pharaohs, abundance, and mystery.


    The land of Egypt. The Two Lands, Kumat; the Black Land. It has many names, but everyone knows of it. With a history tracing back to nearly eight thousand years, Egypt has been subject to many pop culture works throughout the millenia. Greek philosophers, Persian mathematicias, American screenwriters. Many have been inspired the magical history of ancient Egypt. Though mostly it is known for its dynastic time period spanning from three thousand one hundred before common era after famed King Menes united Upper and Lower Egypt into a single super empire, to the death of Ptolemy the fifteenth Philopator Philometor Caesar, son of Cleopatra the seventh Thea Philopator and Gaius Julius Caesar, at the hands of Caesar Augustus  in thirty before common era. A multitude of of dynasties spread across three eras known as the Old-, Middle-, and New Kingdom. But Egypt was more than just its history. Egypt was a paradise. Due to the black silt washed onto the shores after each flood period by the river Nile, the soil around the slithering river was among the most fertile on the planet, making it a garden of Eden made real. It was fought over for this very reason by many many cultures, kingdoms and empires. But even so, Egypt persisted through wear and tear, war and famine, conquests and oppression. All up until the dawn of the Roman Empire. But even if the great dynastic empire was lost, and its remarkable culture and religion, so much still survived. Buildings so great they stand tall even five thousand years later despite being exposed to the elements. Truly remarkable structures, each telling its very own unique story of the ancient times.

    But this story is not about the entirety of Egypt... yet.


    Quasr Farafra

    Al Farafrah



    As you follow the main road towards Quasr Farafra, you'll see not much else than dusty hills of sandstone in whites and beiges. But if you look towards the horizon you might just catch the glimpse of an ominous cloud gently caressing the soft pale sands below. The closer you get, the more the sand around you will strike. Like millions of tiny bullets being fired at your tender skin. You get closer and closer, the sand blasting harder and harder. Eventually it will begin to tear the skin from your flesh. rendering you nothing but a bloody pile of flesh and bone. But were you to somehow survive this cursed storm and make it through to the other side, you'd be met with a two statues dedicated to the ancient god of the desert, Sutekh, judging your entrance to the area. If you look around, you will see that the storm surrounds the entire area, which is not a small area. It's mostly desert here. A few sandstone huts, and something that looks like a plantation to the right in the distance. If your eyes follow the road ahead, you will come to see a large sandstone gate. Two towers, very similar to temple ruins seen across egypt, but newer, with beautiful painted carvings. Behind them, the town of Quafr Farafra. It's a quaint little town, nothing special itself. But some parts of the place has been clearly remade recently. The ruined remains in the center of the town has been built upon. Now instead of torn sandstone walls and dust stood a fantastical temple like those of ancient times. Across it on the other side of the street you would see large silos and temple vaults and a courtyard with a small garden. The houses around the temple had also been retouched and made to look prettier, not to make the temple palace look too out of place. Were you to continue through the town, you'd come across a very small forest, or patch of trees, shielding the many fields behind it. The town is completely self sustained, and the people are hard at work for most of the day. Especially since Amr Sa'ad, a ruthless warlord, arrived some years ago. Amr, although ruthless and harsh, has a very kind and gentle face. Something that might fool most folk. Some say he has threatened to unleash the great plagues were anyone to oppose him. Others say he has a private army. Fox news say he uses alien technology to shield the town from the Egyptian military. Whatever the truth is, he has the loyalty of the people of Farafra, despite his ironfist rule.




    Anpukanefer was born a long long long long long time ago, but that's another story for another time. 

    Right now, in this day and era, he goes under the pseudonym Amr Sa'ad. A warlord of coptic origin. His imagined father died in battle with the national guard, leaving Amr and orphan who quickly took up his father's trade and began to build a small empire from scratch. Of course, all this was just a front for his ulterior motives. Ever since being freed from his nearly five thousand year imprisonment, Anpukanefer has been scowering the world for relics and artifact that might aid him reclaim Egypt to the gods of old and fulfill his agreement with the chaotic god Sutekh.


                        While the scene was sickening, especially for someone, if they had never witnessed such an image, the woman wanted to reach out, while resting her hand upon the poor man’s eyes, to then let his lids fall shut forever.  And while saying, ‘Sorry,’. It was too late to attempt it however, especially since she knew the attacker had spotted her somehow.  It wasn’t seen exactly, but just felt one way, or another.  Watching that organ being thrown down, it caused her eyes to widen and as she shuddered slightly.  With a wide range of emotions flowing throughout her, the brunette mused bitterly towards him, ‘You are the one that needs to go, not the innocents, nor the helpless of this world.’

                        In time how she knew that he was her attacker, and she was his prey? Those words of his, a clear indicator for one, and his gaze felt upon her, that in second place.  At hearing his words of how that man had tasted, and how she might taste in comparison, it caused the brunette to scoff under her breath as she muttered in thought only, ‘You’ll never find that out. I will do whatever it takes to defend myself from you— I am not yours to do with as you, please.  Never was, never will be.’  If thoughts could be heard, it wasn’t known, yet internally she had gotten that out to someone at least.  Following those thoughts, the brunette slowly yet surely began to back off.  Step by step, she retreated from him. The brunette was careful to not lose her footing, though at times, it not easy, because of the uneven, soggy foundation.  Yet for the most part, she thankfully remained balanced.


    ┈      ┈      ┈      ┈

    When did she try to spring into action, and possible fight mode with him, if it was even a possibility? Before she caught a glimpse of his face, and before he would quicken his pace to then close the distance between them, where he could, or would get the upper hand? Or, should she wait until he made his move, and to fight him off then, if she was able to?

    ┈      ┈      ┈      ┈


                        Catherine might have been smart, but not smart enough to make a fool of the vampire, meaning there was no way she could catch him off-guard.  Options were out there, but none of them good enough – A weapon, that her last resort, and only chance.  Still walking backwards, she used her hands to pat along surface by surface and cover every inch of remaining wall, (while her gaze remained upon him, wherever he should be), until something came to her.  And, success, or was it? A reasonably long, thick, metal tube, something equivalent to the length of a baseball bat, or once retrieved, it would be, was felt within her hands. Small jiggling movements were made, with both her petite hands assisting in getting it out of the wall and cracks as quick as possible.  Her gaze alternated over and over, from the object, and over to him, then back to the object, and once more to him.  On and on it went, until that object became hers.  "Come on, come on, come on. Please," she breathed out shakily, pleading, begging almost for this temporary weapon to be hers.  While the retrieval of it wasn’t effortless, it slowly yet surely eased its way out the cracked, broken surface, as she swallowed hard, though on the relieved side as well.  Though that relieved feeling short-lived, because danger now, it was closer than ever.  It was getting closer and closer with every step. Thoughts of hers: ‘Stab him with it, repeatedly? Dong him repeatedly upon his head? Or something else, an idea that had not come to mind yet?’ Rather than figuring out what to do with it however, shade of green hazel hues briefly lingered far and wide, while they narrowed slightly.  After a quick sweep over the area, while she was trying to see if a glimpse of him was there, though at the same time, she took no more chances. What she did was allow herself to spin upon her heel, and with that, her entire body to turn forward, that there being her back was indeed facing him now, while she started to run.  She started for the outdoors, or attempted to, yet in the opposite direction she had come on inside.  It that proved to be in her favor, or not, it wasn’t known, yet while armed, while remaining on high alert and more, she was on the move.  And, had started running, to goodness knows where.

    'How far would she get, before she would have to use her weapon, well if she was able to get any further that this? Would she even step one foot outside? Would she escape him, or would he truly not let her leave so easily? And, with that, would she see his face right up close, and personal in time - And, as with his thought process, would she pinned up against that wall, and to be screaming in agony or worse for her life, before it slowly yet surely slipped from her as well?'

                        Time would reveal that, that a given – At least now, she had a fighting chance, did she not? Rather than think on that, or dwell upon it, the brunette simply ran, to let her feet carry her as far as they could go.


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