Julie was the one to take the car along with Eleonora in the passenger seat and Queenie, Zoe and Cordelia in the back three. The Supreme seemed to nervously speed down the streets, feeling tears fall down her face and freeze against her cheek painfully as she struggled not to panic. The other three witches were confused, but they knew that the Supreme had powerful psychic abilities—there couldn't have been any way Julie was driving them out at night for nothing.

"How did you see it?" Zoe asked, out of her seatbelt with her hand on the back of the driver's seat.

"I…I looked in the crystal ball…uh…" She paused, shaking her head with a quiet whine. "I can't talk right now. We need to get there!"

With that being said, she stepped on the gas and the car accelerated a deal beyond the street's speed limit before the smell of burning wood came through the vents. Julie sniffed, speeding faster and suddenly coming to a hefty stop to get out of the car and see firemen in uniform spurting high-power hoses up at a burning house. Flames licked their way out of the windows, roaring with a ravaging intensity as several neighbors congregated to the sides to watch and panic at the ferocious spectacle. The fire was as loud as thunder, ripping through the house as she heard beams and structural components falling inside the house. On the verge of a worried cry, the Supreme gasped breathily and nearly let out a wail as she saw Chase's house consumed by hell's very own inferno.

"Oh my…gods!" she screamed, the other witches following her upon getting out of the car.

Eleonora and Cordelia, who used her Second Sight to see as her blind, scarred eyes cried, had no reservations in running to the dangerous lawn of the burning abode, seeing Misty and Chase crying and shouting frantically in each others arms in fear of the fire. Eleonora ran toward them, Cordelia behind her, and took a frightened, shaken-up Chase into her arms as he sobbed frantically.

"Chase! Oh my god! Are you ok?" his younger sister cried. "Julie had visions…we got so worried!"

"Clara….in there!" he said, barely able to speak a full sentence from the heavy, breathless sobbing. "Amy, too!"

"Where'd you last see them?!" the blonde witch asked, startled by the sudden lick of flame that nearly caught onto them from the immolated house.

"Up in their rooms, playin'," Misty replied, crashing her face into Cordelia's shoulder as she gripped her tightly. Cordelia saw a flash of light come to her mind, and she gasped.

"Clara is alright! They're pulling her out from upstairs," the blind witch said. "I can see it!"

She was right; a tall, stocky firefighter in his uniform came out five or so minutes later with a weary Clara in his arms bridal-style as her arm hung downwards, limp and restful. Misty, letting Cordelia go, saw Julie, Zoe, and Queenie approach the fiery scene closer as the little girl was set to her feet, running toward her mother and father with tears flooding her large blue eyes. They both held her for dear life, and Misty kissed her sooty cheek roughly and cried.

"CLARA!" she shouted. "Are you alright?"

"Y-Yeah, ma," she whined in a high-pitched, worried voice. "Amy's stuck!"

"Stuck?!" Chase shouted. "Where?!"

"I dunno! I dunno! She's still in there!" the little girl screeched. "I'm scared!"

"Misty? Chase?" Julie called out, running toward them with salty tears frosted to her white face like the outside of an ice cream container. "Get away from here! The fire's going to hurt you."

"I ain't leavin' 'til I see my baby!" Misty hissed in a sob.

"Chase, come with me. You're going to get hurt," the Supreme resisted, holding her hand out from him to hold. He struggled to grip it with his cleft hand but went with her anyway. To get Misty to budge, Julie utilized concilium to enforce her will upon hers and get her to move away from the fire with them.

Meanwhile, Queenie and Zoe approached a firefighter, who had tried to elongate his hose, but before it could spurt up and fight the flames, they spoke.

"How the hell did this happen?" Queenie asked in her usual sassy manner.

"We don't know, miss," the firefighter answered. "They got one girl out, the other is still stuck in there somewhere."


Inside the immolated house, Amy was trapped in the hallway upstairs, crying hysterically as the flames danced ferociously around her like meat-hungry lions in a cage. The walls were covered in black, dirty soot, and the fires that were destroying every inch of her house seemed to grow higher as she panicked beyond her own control.

"HELP ME!" she screamed. "HELP!"

No one seemed to answer even though she could hear clattering downstairs along with heavy, booted footsteps.

"DADDY!" she screamed, tears flowing down her face. "MAMA! HEEELP!"

The fires began to eat the walls, and as her large, intense blue eyes turned to her left, she could see the door to the master bedroom completely turned to ash as her parent's bed, dresser, mirror table, and nightstands became nothing more than just piles of debris. Little Amy shrieked a piercing cry upon seeing the ceiling cave in and land on the burning, covered mattress.

"HELP! GET ME OUT! HEEELPPP! HEEEELL—"

CRASH!


The Second Sight flashed a bright red light in Cordelia's mind outside of the burning building, and she screamed.

"OH NO!" She was crazed—she had seen Amy with her second sight.

"What happened? What do you see?!" Eleonora asked, shaking the blind witch's shoulders. Cordelia, crying frantically, had a piercingly intense sob as she raised her hands to her brow.

"Amy….she's hurt!"

"NO!" Julie shouted. "AMY!"

"AMYYY!" Misty screamed, collapsing to the ground and weeping hysterically. Chase tried to help her back to her feet as he cried in unison with her, but it was to no avail.

"AHH! NO!" he barked angrily. "GET HER OUT! NOW! THAT'S MY LITTLE GIRL! NO!"

Two firefighters, seen by Julie in the small distance from the edge of the lawn to the burning house, came out of the house empty-handed—the Supreme was shocked and indeed furious. She charged the two men in uniform and her soulful eyes penetrated them like battle axes in the heat of the moment.

"Where's my niece?" she hissed.

"We can't find—"

"WHERE IS SHE?!" she screeched.

"Ma'am, I ask that you—"

"GET HER OUT! NOW!" she barked, sounding like a mad, rabid dog foaming ferociously at the mouth.

Seizing the opportunity, she utilized concilium and enforced her will fiercely on the two firefighters—one of them struggled to resist, but in her rage, the Supreme made it so that he was bleeding from his nose, his ears, his eyes and his mouth, nearly killing him from a brain hemorrhage. She gritted her teeth, using her cryokinesis to freeze the blood to his face so that it bit his skin beneath as she recited her will in the form of a venomous hiss.

"Don't fuck with me," she began ferociously, "you will go in there and get that little girl, and make a fucking effort to do so. If you don't, I will make sure you die right here. Don't care how, but I will. It's been a very long night, and I don't want to work up a sweat. Don't make me a bad witch-bitch. I don't want to be. Now GO!"

The firefighters scurried into the house, and Julie watched them intently, biting her lower lip and closing her darkly-shadowed eyelids, holding out her hand palm up and concentrating as she pressed her soft, frigid palm to her soft, glossed lips and held it there for a few moments to let her power build up. When it reached its peak, she took it away and blew her breath out in the form of a cloud of cold snow, projecting it toward the burning building as it started from the bottom and crackled its way to the top of the remains of the structure. Julie continued to concentrate, hearing the neighbors shout off to the side in shock as the inferno ceased by her will and looking as the last flame licked weakly against her icy powers. However, the heat of the Louisianan summer melted the ice quickly, and even the firefighters were shocked at the sudden stop to the destruction. The Supreme turned and looked back at the dumbstruck neighbors of Misty and Chase, smirking slightly as her face softened from anger and determination to kindness and triumph.

"Relax, everyone," she said, "the fire is gone." She raised her voice slightly, looking at the neighbors assertively. "Be gone to your homes! There's nothing to see here."

However, there was plenty still yet to see—some of the neighbors stuck around to see a long, thick bag being carried out by paramedics called to the scene within minutes. The ambulance sounded its siren and flashed blue and orange lights, and once Misty saw the bag be carried out past her, she ran to the paramedic and sobbed heavily.

"MY BABY!" she screamed. "DON'T TAKE HER! We can help her with our doin's! DO NOT take her!"

"Amy…" Chase began to sob, looking down and picking up on his wife's intense emotions as a third paramedic, hands not on the long body bag but rather following close behind it, looked at the flaxen-haired woman and put a hand on her thin, shawled shoulder.

"We are so sorry, ma'am," he said, sighing sympathetically. "The firefighters found her. The ceiling caved in…"

"AHHH!" Misty screamed. "NOOOO!"

"Ma'am, please remain calm," the paramedic said. "I know exactly how you feel…" A tear escaped one of his wrinkled, middle-aged eyes, "my daughter died of an overdose. We couldn't save her. We are so sorry, ma'am. We really are."

Sorry my ass, Misty thought as they took the body bag away from the extinguished fires scene. Chase ran after them within reasonable distance, grabbing the medic and shaking him like a child begging for his toy back.

"Give her back! No! Please! Give her back!" he cried out. "Please!"

"Sir, we cannot. We have to have a doctor declare her dead, conduct an autopsy and—"

"NO!" Eleonora shouted. "It's clear how she died! Don't ruin her even more!"

Clara looked up at her family members and the other witches as they tried to prevent the paramedics from carrying her dead sister's corpse into the ambulance, making sure they were distracted before running off and sneaking in the back of the open ambulance, hiding well enough so that when the body was placed on the gurney and the medics sat, she couldn't be seen. Chase was the first to notice her missing, and he gasped.

"Where is Clara?" he asked, his colorless gray eyes looking around the darkness.

"Oh…shit," Misty whispered to herself. "Oh my…c'mon!"

"She was in the back of that ambulance," Cordelia said, using her Second Sight.

"What?!" Eleonora exclaimed.

"She snuck back there," Cordelia wept. "I see it now."

"You didn't think to stop her?" Misty asked with disbelief.

"I didn't notice," the blind witch said in a tearful whine. "We have to get there, and fast!"


The body bag had been brought down into the hospital's basement, which served as a morgue of sorts aside from storage. Clara, who had snuck into the back of the ambulance, made her way out of it and followed the doctors discreetly to a specialized room in the basement where the coroner, in charge of staff in the basement, declared her dead. He unzipped the body bag, and a hidden Clara gasped at the sight of blood emanating from Amy's dead mouth. Even in death with a thin layer of soot on her skin and clothing, the deceased child was still so beautiful, her pallid face framed by her soft, golden curls which were moved aside by the doctor. Clara kept her ears open for the dialogue between the coroner and his assistant.

"Oh my…"

"How old is she?" the assistant asked.

"Seven? Six?"

"She's just a baby."

"Look at her face. She's a doll," the coroner said, smiling sadly as he gently stroked her cheek with his latex-covered finger. "What a shame…she would've been a beautiful woman."

"Want to remove clothing articles yet?" the assistant asked.

"No, not yet. I'm off shift soon," the coroner responded. "I'll revisit this case in the morning. I can already see some trauma to the chest area here." He pointed to her chest, lifting down the top of the corpse's dress. "The medics got word from the firefighters that she was found beneath a large mass that collapse from the ceiling. They found a…" The coroner held the hand on Amy's corpse with a sad frown, "little hand poking out. They were like, yeah, that's the girl."

"Should we put her in the freezer, then?"

What is she, food? Clara asked herself as she shook her head and hid better as not to be seen.

"Hm, maybe. I think Steve will at the end of the night," he said. "Let's go and tell him."

Watching them leave, Clara knew her chance was up—she got out of hiding and looked up at the clock; she could not read time very well even thought the large hand was over the twelve and the small hand on the ten. She felt tears form in her eyes as she gazed upon her dead younger sister. She tried to walk over, but her attention was caught by the majestic beauty of Amy's dead face. Though it was pallid with blood running down the side of her soft, pale pink mouth, her golden curls softly fanned around her head and was still quite neat even after being rustled around in a body bag for some time.

"Amy?" she whispered with a cracking voice. "It's me, Clara. Your sister." She paused, letting a tear shed from one of her large, clear blue eyes. "Aunt Julie told us spirits hang 'round 'fore goin' down to Helheim. I…I hope you're still here."

The silence was enough to make Clara begin to cry as she drew closer to the table upon which her sister's corpse was rested. He leaned forward slightly, holding the pallid hand the coroner had analyzed before leaving.

"You're so cold…cold like Aunt Julie. You need to stay warm. You'll catch a cold. They say they'll put you in a freezer, but you ain't food," the girl wept, gripping her dead sister's hand slightly. "I love you, sissy. I wish ma were here to bring you back, or Aunt E-E-Eleonora? Maybe both of 'em can bring you back."

Now, the putrid smell of decomposition was getting to her nose, but she was more focused on getting her words out and her tears shed. Clara also could not help but gag slightly, letting her cough out away from her sister's frigid corpse. Clara let out a moment's worth of sobbing as she tried to hold her sister's head, looking down and letting her tears fall on the corpse's pallid smoothness. Amy's small head was surprisingly heavy, and the girl closed her eyes.

"Amy…A-Amy…"

Her chest felt heavy, and she struggled to take a deep breath.

"A…Am…."

She felt her heart begin to slow down, fighting to pump liters of blood through her veins.

"W…wh…uh…huh….ah….huh…."

Heavier breathing; her final thought came to mind.

What is happening to me? Clara's eyes suddenly felt heavy.

THUD!

At that moment, the corpse of Amy sprung back to life, jerking up and coughing heavily even though it was incredibly painful to do so. More blood seeped from her mouth and onto the skirt of her dress. Her chest, also, was in excruciating enough pain for her to sob.

But it wasn't just that—it was the sight of Clara, her long, straight raven-colored hair fanned out on the hard tile floor as she lay lifeless there.

A/N:

What happened to Clara? Oh, and Amy came back to life…hm, I wonder how?

I hope this didn't rip at your heartstrings too much. I apologize for the piles of tissues and overflowing trashcans. Not my intention.

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Thank you and happy reading! :)