So Stand in the Rain
Cara haphazardly throws her clothes into the duffle bag. She's finally ready to leave Boston. After over a week of searching for (and killing) the shapeshifter, she is finally ready to move on. Of course, some of that time was spent searching for her next target. But she'd gotten lucky, and found out that a witch that used to work with Analiese was spotted just outside the city. So, it's time to leave.
She walks over to the closet and opens it, moving the blankets that are hanging over the top shelf to the side. Behind them are pictures of and information about shapeshifters, along with maps of the area. She rips all of these papers from the back wall, shoves them into her open notebook, and then tosses that into her duffle.
Just one more thing.
She walks over to her bed and picks up the gun laying on the bedside table. Then she kneels down and reaches for the shotgun that's underneath the bed. She puts the smaller gun in her bag, and sets the shotgun next to it. She sighs, her hands on her hips as she makes sure that she has everything. She looks around the room, and her eye catches the mirror that hangs over the dresser, looming next to the television.
God, she never gets used to it. Sure, she isn't covered in blood from head to toe (a common look for her after a hunt), but she still looks like Cara. Which means she looks like Analiese. Even though she knows she's in control of her body, for one second---for one split second---she sees her eyes. And they are pools of black, her mouth turning up into a smirk. A smirk that says 'I laughed while your mother begged for her life. While your father choked on his own blood.'
Cara picks up the shotgun and walks over to the mirror. Using the butt of the gun, she slams it into the mirror, the glittering shards raining down around her, cutting at her hands and arms. But she doesn't care. The image of Analiese is gone.
And then the Rift opens, dumping Cara onto the asphalt of a Chicago street.
She walks over to the closet and opens it, moving the blankets that are hanging over the top shelf to the side. Behind them are pictures of and information about shapeshifters, along with maps of the area. She rips all of these papers from the back wall, shoves them into her open notebook, and then tosses that into her duffle.
Just one more thing.
She walks over to her bed and picks up the gun laying on the bedside table. Then she kneels down and reaches for the shotgun that's underneath the bed. She puts the smaller gun in her bag, and sets the shotgun next to it. She sighs, her hands on her hips as she makes sure that she has everything. She looks around the room, and her eye catches the mirror that hangs over the dresser, looming next to the television.
God, she never gets used to it. Sure, she isn't covered in blood from head to toe (a common look for her after a hunt), but she still looks like Cara. Which means she looks like Analiese. Even though she knows she's in control of her body, for one second---for one split second---she sees her eyes. And they are pools of black, her mouth turning up into a smirk. A smirk that says 'I laughed while your mother begged for her life. While your father choked on his own blood.'
Cara picks up the shotgun and walks over to the mirror. Using the butt of the gun, she slams it into the mirror, the glittering shards raining down around her, cutting at her hands and arms. But she doesn't care. The image of Analiese is gone.
And then the Rift opens, dumping Cara onto the asphalt of a Chicago street.