Disclaimer: Really not mine.
AN: Technically something that didn't happen to Julia, or so we assume. BTW, sorry it's been so long, my Internet got shut off. Again. Yes, it does happen quite a lot.
She was drunk and she knew it, and she knew that getting drunk was not a good way of coping. Right then, she didn't really care. She dug in her purse for her flat keys, and had just pulled them out when she heard a strangely familiar laugh behind her. She spun around, finding nothing there, and turned back to the door. Her twin sister Julia was standing in front of it. Her dead sister Julia, smiling that same happy smile with the same carefree attitude that had always made sure no one had ever mistaken one for the other. Her hair was black, and there were dark splotches on her neck. At the funeral it had been blonde.
Her sister's face changed, compressed, grew ridges above her brow and her eyes changed to yellow. A sickly colour that reminded her of vomit crusted on the sidewalk. The corruption of her sister's face drove up her hand holding the saw-edged key and towards the thing's eye. A black-clad blur ending in pale flesh swept up and across, caught her wrist, and spun her around to slam her into her door in one motion.
"Sorry I don't look to good sis," the creature said in that too-familiar voice, "but it's a little hard, the way I am now."
Justine's fist was barely noticed, clumsy and from a bad angle, but she grabbed her other wrist and slammed it back too.
"But don't worry. That won't be a problem for much longer."
She opened her mouth wide and bit in deep. The first few kills are always messy, and blood spurted and splattered onto the wall, dyeing it a purer red than any hair colour.
Two weeks later Daniel Holtz read the obituary of Julia Cooper, looked a little deeper, and moved on. Small loss. There must be hundreds of other souls in this godforsaken place that could serve his purpose just as well.