The sound of an engine starting up wakes Clementine. She gets up with a start, jolting herself off the car seat. Accompanying her was a searing pain from the side of the head. Her hand involuntary raises up to her head, and notices her hands held together by a pair of handcuffs. Ignoring it, she touches the top area of her head and feels a gauze wrapped around its side. It doesn't matter how she's been injured. What matters is-

"Where am I?" the girl asks to nobody in particular.

"Easy there, ma'am. That's a nasty hit ya got there." a voice rang out in front of her.

Squinting her eyes, she sees a… police officer? He was bald, with white hairs sticking out like flicks of paint on a black canvas, with a mainly khaki uniform, indicating he's from Atlanta. Atlanta? Wait, what am I doing this far out of Ericson's?, she thought. His face gave out an aura of sympathy towards the wounded girl who lay in the backseat.

"Do you remember what you did a few days ago, Miss Everett?"

"Miss Everett? Wha-what do you mean?"

"Shit...the doctors told me you might have some memory loss." replied the cop. He reaches out into the glovebox and pulled out a file. The file was titled as: "C. Everett"

Now she was truly freaked out. Here she was in a police cruiser in Atlanta, while AJ, Vi, her family, were states away in West Virginia. And with Lee's family name, no less.

"Hey. Hey. HEY!" screamed out the officer, in a bid to get her attention, certified he did the job when the brunette screamed in panic. She stopped, which the officer was glad for.

"Here. This might help." he says, handing over the dossier with her name. Her heart feels close to bursting as she opens the dossier. Instantly, it feels as if the file is beginning to hold open her mind, beginning to fill it with memories. Memories that weren't hers to begin with, yet were hers all the same. Images began to play in her mind like an old film reel. Images of her playing with children she didn't seem to recognize at all. Images of her sitting at a school table. Images of her in a wedding dress. Images of her with a gun, shooting down a man and a woman, a man she believed to be her husband (in this world of course, she'd never leave Violet.)

Then, suddenly, it clicked.

In this reality, a reality she had just entered, she wasn't Clementine, the once innocent child turned hardened survivor. Here, she was Clementine Everett, a 25-year-old woman working full-time as a freelance photographer. Her father, Benjamin, ran a local drugstore handed down through his family in Macon after his elder brother Lee died. Her mother died of leukemia when she was just 11 . She also married Louis Harlston, a rich pianist, after (seemingly) finding love when the two met a few years ago at a musical event.

Then, a few days before, she came home early after coming from some woods not far from here, where she took some photographs. On the driveway, she found a motorbike. A Harley-Davidson most likely, although the make and model of it was unclear. Beginning to feel suspicious, as none of Louis' friends had a motorcycle (seeing as they were all snobby aristocrats), she opened the door, finding it unlocked. With her suspicions at volcanic levels, she had sprinted to the staircase in front of her. No, it can't be… Louis wouldn't be cheating on me. It can't be…, she had thought in utter disbelief and denial. She bust open the door, to find the absolute very last thing she wanted to see:

Louis was snuggling on the bed, giggling as he tickles…

"Minerva?!" she screamed, more a guttural animal noise than anything else. The two had a long history. Like a really long history. In her entire photography career, the only concern for her was this red-headed whorenut. One can argue that she had the IQ level of a piece of shit. She would keep stalking her in the hopes of finding good photoshoot locations before she did. And then there were those plaigarism claims. She kept ripping off Clementine's photos and claimed them as her own. It pissed her off to no end.

Which was why her absolute hatred for her was amplified by the millions as she finds Minerva naked on the bed with Louis. How dare they. How FUCKING dare they. At that moment, she let her animalistic rage take over. She sped over to the countertop with a bottle of champagne, grabbed it and broke it in two by slamming one half of it on the hard marble so that she had a pointy end.

"Clem, honey...t-there's been a misunderstanding...It's not what it seems li-NO, PLEASE! D-DON'T! " he tries to say, but fumbles upon his words when he sees his wife coming at him with a fury in her eyes unlike anything he had seen before, instead choosing to plead for help. Clem doesn't flinch when she inserts the speared end of the bottle into Louis' chest, spurting out blood like a scarlet waterfall.

" ." she said, with the most hatred she could possibly muster, pushing the bottle deeper into the gaping hole in his chest, doubling the blood flow. As the once-white sheets begin to transform into a deep crimson with Louis' blood, she pulls out the makeshift tip. In the midst of the scuffle, Minnie attempted to get her clothes and run to get out, She was in the staircase, when in her haste, she trips over a step and falls over. The fall breaks her neck, paralyzing her from the head-down.

The brunette hears the fall and makes another guttural scream and pounces through the door, ready to kill once more. She sees the wrecked body of the cheating slut as she pathetically moans for help. How dare she. She deserved it.

Running down the stairs, she stops at the bottom to face Minerva's body, sneering at it.

"You shouldn't have messed with me, Minn. And you'll pay the fucking price for it."

Stabbing the body with the bottle, she kept doing it over and over again until what was once the behind of her body looked like it had been mauled by a bear. It felt really. Really. Good. She threw away the blood-stained bottle half against the wall, breaking with a satisfying crack.

The girl is brought back to the now, clearly horrified with what had happened in the past. Whatever she did, that wasn't her. It couldn't be. Though what else surprised her was how Louis and Minnie were a part of her other reality. The faces of her past and her present intertwined to create this reality she was in was her assumption.

"You good, ma'am?" the cop asked, " 'cause I'm gonna need that dossier back. It belongs to the Atlanta Police Department, so I can't be blamed for something you did."

Before returning the dossier, she noticed a piece of paper standing out from the various records and photographs neatly organized in the file. It was a handwritten note, entirely cursive. The only person she knew to have such handwriting was…

Lee.

Taking the note in her hand, she began to look through the note.

To my sweetpea,

How's it been? It's been a long time since we last met. I thought I told you to meet me when you got everyone safe. Though I don't blame you for not coming. How could I? You're in my shoes now. And right now, if you're

reading this note, that statement is literally true. Don't ask me how. It's just the way it is. Felt it'd be fair to warn you that not all things will happen for you the way it did for me, so be more alert. You now know better than most probably all of the US. Stay safe out there. And don't get bit.

Love, Lee..

She kept staring the note with visible confusion. Until she began to realize something.

She was Lee.

It all made sense. Lee got arrested for murdering his wife and the guy she cheated with - a senator, apparently?- the same way she had gotten arrested for murdering both Louis and Minnie. Though why Louis and Minnie were the lover and cheater here will be a mystery lost in the ashes.

"I'm done." she replied to the officer, handing over the file through the bars that separated the two.

"Alright, Let's move. We have a long ways to go." he states, setting the transmission to 'D' and driving out onto the many roads that litter the soon-to-be wasteland Atlanta.