Chapter 3

Home Sweet Home

And so, after that one night that made Cora Jade's life feel like it had been mercilessly turned upside down, her road to a complete recovery had begun… if only she knew that all of this was going to take one full, exhausting, long month.

Most people would have fallen asleep some point after they were done crying for a long period of time, but not her, she remembered. Nobody came to check up on her after the detectives had ended their first interrogation, not even a single nurse, but Cora remembered not caring much for that at the moment; perhaps it was better this way. No way in hell was she ever going to look at herself in the mirror and see the face of nothing more but a killer. Countless tears had been shed as she could not only hardly believe that it was her who had unintentionally ended the life of her fiancé, but she was terrified out of her mind about what the consequences for her might be. She knew damn well what would be the fate of all killers who would get caught, the severity of their punishment often variating, but in the absolute worst case possible, she would be spending the rest of her ruined life behind bars in a prison cell that she would most likely be forced to share with a woman who must have done something equally as horrible as she did, hell, maybe even worse, and the light of day would be nothing more than a distant memory to Cora. Lying in that hospital bed, she was convinced that her life was over, already able to picture the day where numerous police officers would swarm her room, slap a pair of cuffs on her and wheel her out of the hospital with the charges of murder. No sleep whatsoever was had that night, all thanks to the sheer anxiety that had overlapped the physical pain; it was only when the footsteps of the nurses working the dayshift echoed through the floor's hallways and a voice on the hospital's intercom asking a certain Dr. Singh to please get to the ICU as soon as possible that Cora managed to catch some shut-eye.

Thanks to plenty of rest, her wounds slowly but surely started to heal, the stitches soon enough dissolving on their own. Her wounds would definitely turn into scars once they were fully healed, something she would have to deal with one way or another for the rest of her life. Cora was sure that she wouldn't notice them during autumn, winter and maybe also spring, but once summer would come around the corner and the warm sun would tan her skin, they would definitely become visible. They were even visible now. Each day after the wounds had fully closed up (roughly near the end of her hospital stay), Cora would look at the scars that had been Trevor's final gift to her, and though she could become used to them in the future, looking at them right now made her skin crawl. They all appeared as white, straight, thin lines, some of them variating in length but none of the bigger ones any bigger than four centimeters; her shaka tattoo was now permanently cleaved in a half by one of these white lines. What made the physical healing progress more bearable were the painkillers that she would have to take on a daily basis, and soon enough Cora had healed enough to get up on her feet and take slow-paced walks in the hospital's hallways, and when the days were particularly warm and sunny, even in the small garden behind the building, which turned out to be a much-welcomed break from lying in bed all day long. Sure, she could only walk around for a short amount of time, but she was grateful for them nonetheless.

This, however, did not mean that Cora's month-long recovery was a peaceful one.

Like Detective Moore had promised, more visits from the police were made a few times during the month, the second one being only one day after she had been brought into the hospital. It was to take pictures of the wounds since they too would serve as evidence, she remembered having to be taken to examination room for this and under the supervision of a doctor and a nurse, several pictures were taken of each wound on her body; having to be partially stripped of her clothing for this made Cora not only feel literally, but figuratively naked in front of that camera. The following visit of Moore and Jackson was more or less the same as the first one, this one being an interrogation as well. She had to tell them when and how she had met Trevor, what their relationship had been like before his irresponsibility and impulsiveness started to rear their ugly heads, how her childhood was like, how Trevor's childhood was like for as far as she knew, whether there had been any prior violent incidents regarding him, and somehow this would help with the investigation… not once did Cora tell them a lie, all while hoping for the best ending possible once this whole investigation was over and the act of self-defense could be proven beyond a shadow of a doubt. They had also asked her to repeat the claims she had made the first time, perhaps to see if there were any inconsistences in this version compared to the latter. Cora, of course, stuck with her story, recalling the events just like she did the other night, from beginning to end.

Naturally, her ordeal hadn't gone unnoticed by the local media, all thanks to that one 9-1-1 call. She had seen it herself from her window, and while she was relieved that none of them had made it into her room, it was just so damn uncomfortable to see. On the day where she had the photos of her wounds taken, a group of journalists and their cameramen had gathered near the entrance of the hospital and had tried to follow Jackson and Moore when they were heading inside, microphones or recorders in hand, only backing off when the detectives turned around and told them off. Cora was convinced that they must have been here because of her, and thank the freaking lord, that was the first and only time she ever saw them.

But hell… a bunch of nosy journalists shoving microphones and cameras into her face upon entering her room and invade whatever privacy she had were the last people on Earth she had to be anxious speaking to.

'Oh, so now all of a sudden you want me around?' were the exact words Geraldine Jade (having gone back with identifying with her maiden name a year ago) said to her daughter after she had just finished telling what had happened to her on the phone near the nurse's station. No woman would ever want to hear that from her mother, but to Cora, it did not come as a surprise; it only confirmed her assumption that deep down, her mother was still pissed at her for moving out to live with Trevor three years ago. Not that the relationship between mother and daughter had been a good one from the get-go anyway… What did surprise Cora however was the trip her mother made in order to pay her a visit. She knew that Driggs was a long drive from Autumnfield, and this had been the very first time Geraldine put some effort into coming over, having never announced a plan to visit her one of these days during the scarce amount of phone conversations they had throughout those past three years. And what surprised Cora even more was the fact that there wasn't a new man in her life to accompany her to this hospital visit as well, her eyes slightly widening when she saw her mother entering her room all by herself.

It was during this visit that an agreement was set up.

The finances had already been a mess thanks to years of Trevor's impulsive spending habits and it was painfully obvious that the money Cora had been secretly stashing away was nowhere near enough for her (had he not been looking for those goddamn shoes on that night, she could have saved up for much longer to have just the right amount to move out) to live independently, not even enough to rent the tiniest, dingiest, rundown apartment with walls so thin you could hear what kinky shit your neighbors were into between the sheets of their bed in some city in the area of Driggs. This amount of money, combined with whatever money there had been left for that month, would all go up in smoke by the end of her hospital stay, Cora knew, all thanks to the lengthy medical bill that would be one last gift given to her upon leaving, one with an amount of numbers that would make anybody's head spin. There was no way in hell she could ever stay in that house when she was this broke… if she hadn't run out of tears to cry, Cora surely would have been able to produce some more upon this crushing realization. As she wondered out loud where she was going to live if she couldn't afford living in that house anymore, Geraldine Jade came up with the following offer.

'I could let you stay at my place when you get out, for as long as you need. I mean… it's not like there are many options, is it?'

As much as Cora hated to admit this, she knew that her mother was right. After all, now that she was bound to be good as broke, it would be impossible to rent a place and support herself… and her mother was the only person left in her life to turn to, and on top of that, the only family she had left. Just by noticing the tone in her mother's voice when she made this offer, she knew that her mother had made the bold assumption that she, in a sense, was victorious in the end. Her daughter could not get away from her, no matter how hard she would try. Cora would have loved to go anywhere except her mother's place in Autumnfield, she really would have, preferably as far away as possible, but… what choice did she have? Living on the streets with only a dirtied, stained cardboard box as her only protection from the elements, do things she never thought she would ever do in order to get enough dollars for a damn sandwich and pray to God each night that she would wake up the following morning? It was a fate she wouldn't wish upon anyone… and so, she was forced to admit defeat.

But as soon as she would find a job and save up enough money, she would get the hell out of there.

With that agreement settled, Geraldine would later on bid goodbye to her daughter, telling her not to expect any more visits until she would be discharged, because my goodness, did she have any idea how much gasoline costs these days? With that, she left the room, leaving Cora alone to blankly stare out of the window and giving her the main reason of why she wasn't going to look forward to the day where she would be allowed to leave the hospital.

There was, however, one thing that gave her a big sense of relief near the end of her stay. After a full month of investigating her case, Detectives Moore and Jackson paid her one last visit on the night where she was eventually declared healed enough to go back home (dear God, those detectives had visited her more often than her own mother, that was one fucking bitter pill for her to swallow when she realized that) with the latest and final news regarding her future. Thorough investigation of her residence at Holland Lane and her statements had led the police to conclude that Cora had indeed handled in self-defense on the night where she had been attacked in a blind rage by her fiancé, and thereby, according the state law of Michigan, she was acquitted of her murder charge. It was on that moment where Cora sank into her pillow and let out a massive sigh, feeling the biggest sense of relief that she has ever felt in her whole life. Thank God, thank God in Heaven… Had she thanked the detectives for their work? Oh yes, for sure. After all, it was all thanks to them that she didn't have to spend the rest of her life behind bars. But did this mean that she was able to forgive herself for what she had done to Trevor? No, not by a long shot. She was going to have to live with the fact that she had unintentionally ended his life for as long as she would live, something she wondered she was able to do. And what was going to make this progress even harder was the fact that she had to go back to her home, or rather, soon to be former home, one last time to gather whatever belongings she still had, pack them up and head off to Autumnfield… and be forced to confront the scene of the crime.

The very crime scene that she had created.

At last, the day where she was discharged from the hospital had arrived, something that anyone would be happily looking forward to, eagerly wanting to continue living a normal life after a long, exhausting rehabilitation process and a diet of jelly with barely any flavor, lukewarm vegetables and sandwiches with a minimal amount of topping, but not Cora. Not that she was longing for a prolonged diet of hospital food and laying down in bed for hours on end, oh no. Her mother, still sticking by her claim of gasoline nowadays being ungodly expensive, hadn't even showed up that afternoon to pick her up (again, no big surprise to Cora), thus leaving her with no other choice than to spend a portion of whatever money she had still left on a taxi to take her home. The ride back to Holland Lane was a silent one, with the driver, a greying man who looked like he could desperately use some sleep and smelling of stale cigarette smoke, not asking any question of why nobody would bother to pick a young, rather attractive looking woman like her up, not that Cora longed for a meaningless conversation that would last until they had reached her destination. Throughout the whole ride, she stared at the outside world passing her behind the window, and while she wished that it was going to take a long time before they would eventually stop in front of the house, she also wished at the same time that she wasn't going to have to cough up too many dollars by the end of this ride.

About fifteen minutes after she had boarded the taxi, the driver gently pushed the brake in front of a house she knew all too well, and luckily for her wallet, he didn't charge her too much. Cora uttered a soft 'thank you' after getting out, and as soon as she had closed the door behind her, the vehicle sped off down the street with moderate speed, off to the next customer in need for a ride; Cora watched it until it disappeared from her sight. She then turned her head to stare at the place she had once called home, no matter how crappy it was to be there at times (especially during arguments about, you've guessed it, money and the nights where she laid awake in bed, worrying about how the most necessary bills were going to be paid with such little money), soon enough bound to be just a memory. Of course she had let her landlord know that she was going to move out during her time at the hospital, and Cora was convinced that this might have been the best news Mr. Evans could have ever heard. How many times had she received annoyed phone calls of him asking when the hell their rent was going to be paid whenever they had passed the due date of the monthly payment? Too many times, Cora knew, much to her shame. Which is why Mr. Evans would be much happier with a new tenant, preferably one who actually pay the rent on time. Staring at the house in front of her, just down the narrow path that split the small front yard in half. The grass of said front yard had grown significantly while she had been gone, something that Mr. Evans would probably have to take care of before he could present this house to the next tenant. Soon the crickets that had been hiding in there during these summer days would perform their little concert as soon as the sun would set far enough, a sound that she would always associate with this season… she just hoped she could hear it too in Autumnfield.

With her feet filled with what felt like lead, Cora walked towards the house, hoping that the forensic team hadn't taken the spare key underneath the doormat for evidence. Thankfully, it was indeed left there. Now that the property was no longer deemed as a crime scene, all yellow tape warning outsiders not to enter the house had been removed; a sole, short strand that read 'ot cross' in black, thick letters was accidently left behind and hidden somewhere between the grass, out of Cora's sight.

Walking back into her house after a whole month of absence should have been a joyous occasion, but having made a few steps inside and quietly looking around, Cora could feel nothing else but her skin crawl; she had closed the door behind her earlier with a soft click. It was just her now. The only thing that had been greeting her was complete and utter silence. Trevor was never going to greet her anymore while sitting the couch, game controller in hand and the sounds of plasma guns blasting and snarling monsters blasting from the TV's speakers, something that had annoyed her immensely whenever she was yet again the one worrying about their financial situation. Looking at the few possessions she had in this living room, Cora wondered how much money she would get from them if she'd sell them. The couch and the coffee table looked rather outdated since they had been purchased from a thrift store, so she guessed she wasn't going to get a whole lot for that. But the TV and Trevor's gadgets and consoles, however… she could easily get hundreds of dollars for those. Whatever money she could make from selling what she had left here would go straight to her savings, that was for sure; the quicker she could move out of her mom's place, the better. But she would have to get back to that a little later, though. What she had to focus on right now was what she was going to take with her to Autumnfield. The floor softly creaked underneath her feet as she slowly walked across the living room, heading towards the stairs. The same stairs that had caused Trevor's neck to break like a twig… This very thought made a heavy chill run up her spine with so much force that it hurt, and Cora slowly breathed in and out through her nose in an attempt to calm herself down. Goddamn it, she had to get up those stairs, she couldn't be thinking about this! She clenched her fists as she approached the stairs, trying to convince herself that she could easily keep her cool, but she hadn't even made it close to the first step when she saw something on the floor that made her this close to freaking the fuck out. As thorough the forensic team had been investigating the house, they had however done a mediocre job at cleaning their own mess up after the case had been closed. Thick, white lines had been drawn around Trevor's body at some point during the investigation, precisely lining out the position it had been found in. Hands resting close near his head, one leg resting on the bottom step and the other bend at the knee, and of course, the slightly crooked neck; the lines had grown faint, but they were still visible nonetheless. A grim reminder of that night's events… Cora let out a shuddering breath and clenched her eyes shut, forcing herself to get up the stairs. The further she walked up, the more distance she felt between her and the sinister outlines, giving her a bit more calmness. This, however, was chucked out of the window as soon as she got to the top and looked at the wall near the bedroom door, where she was greeted with yet another unwanted memory of her near-death experience. Dark brown droplets had been sprayed on the ochre walls and she knew damn well it wasn't because one clumsy cop hadn't spilled chocolate milk while doing their work; it was blood, her own blood no less, and there was a dried-up pool of it staining the floor as well, oh goddamn it... Cora felt her body freezing up in pure horror for a moment and for a horrible second, her head was starting to feel light, holding onto the staircase's railing as tight as she could, but she quickly shook her head and walked to the bedroom, the feeling of lead that had been in her feet earlier having spread to her whole legs. There she looked for the same suitcase that she had planned on taking with her a month ago, which she did; it was still left on the bed, untouched by the forensic team. Letting out a sigh, she opened her closet, her eyes darting from left to right upon inspecting her clothing.

While trying to figure out what piece of clothing to pull out of her closet, she remembered the agreement she and her mother had made during the only visit she had paid to her at the hospital. The plan would go as follows: once she would get home, Cora would pack up all necessary stuff she would need for the time being, spend the night there, and hop onto the first bus heading towards Autumnfield the next day. Simple. Was one suitcase going to be enough? Two, maybe? It was going to be a long bus ride for as far as she knew, would that be a wise idea? Chances were she was going to have to hold them for the whole trip… Whatever. In less than half an hour later, Cora had managed to fill up two suitcases with items that she deemed necessary for what would hopefully be her temporary stay. Her wallet and phone were tucked away in the pockets of her ripped jeans.

Even if she would force herself to at least heat up some noodles for dinner, Cora knew that she wasn't going to eat it, feeling no hunger whatsoever despite the fact that she had two turkey sandwiches for lunch a few hours ago. And despite having stayed at the hospital for a month, she hadn't quite rebuilt the amount of energy she usually had. This became suddenly clear to her when she felt this immense sense of tiredness not long after she was done packing her stuff. It must have been due to the medication that had been given her to throughout that month, she knew. And thus, with having no energy left for anything else, her final moments in this house were spend on the couch, staring at the TV but not paying any attention to the reality show playing out on the screen, having no idea what it was even about, her mind being somewhere entirely else. The sky would darken more and more by each hour and as much as she wished she didn't have to, it would eventually become late enough to go back up those stairs, the same stairs where her former fiancé fell to his death, lie down in the bed they had shared for three years and occasionally made love in, and go to sleep, and travel to her mother's place several hours away the following day. A day she had hoped would never come… but what choice did she have? Not only did she have no choice in that, but sleeping somewhere else for tonight was out of the question as well. To think that she was going to spend the night in the same house where her fiancé had met his untimely demise by her own hands made her skin crawl and, she wasn't going to lie, it made her absolutely sick to her stomach as well. But there wasn't anywhere she could go. She didn't have a car, she was completely exhausted and she barely had any money left; not even enough to rent the scummiest motel room imaginable for a night. Again, something else she didn't have a choice about. Unfair… so fucking unfair.

And before Cora Jade realized it, night eventually fell and it was that time of the day where she had to drag herself upstairs to go to bed. She switched the TV off and mustered up enough energy to get off the couch and turn off the lights downstairs before going up the stairs. That's where whatever amount energy she had managed to build up was completely depleted, so she decided to forgo brushing her teeth and changing into the oversized, dark grey T-shirt that she usually wore for sleeping and laid down on top of her bed. There was no need for her to crawl under the sheets; it just so happened to be one of those summer nights where you'd be perfectly fine sleeping on top of them.

For a few minutes, Cora quietly stared at the ceiling, all while questioning herself how in the world she had come to this point in her life. After that, she let out a miserable sigh and closed her eyes, drifting off to sleep in a surprisingly short time.

No, it hadn't been the freezing cold hand that had found its grip on her neck and grabbed it with so much force that it caused actual pain that woke up Cora at first. Right after the pale hand had taken a hold on her, she was instantly lifted up from her bed and tossed across the room like she weighed nothing; it was this sensation that made her immediately snap out of her sleep, and right before she could let out as much as a shriek of surprise, her body hit the wardrobe with a loud bang. The world around looked like it was trembling as she hit the ground. Cora loudly gasped for air, her body aching all over as she looked around, her widened eyes rapidly blinking in confusion and fear.

What… what happened to her? What was this? Was she still dreaming? The pulsating pain in her back and shoulders proved otherwise, feeling way too real for this to be a dream, or rather, a straight-up nightmare. Her breath shuddered as her eyes quickly darted from left to right, her sight slightly blurred by black spots. There was barely enough light in the bedroom to make it easy for her to spot whoever was here with her, only dimly illuminated by the full moon outside.

That's when she heard it. Cracking. A sickening cracking noise that would change into crunching before switching back to its original sound, over and over again as it was now also accompanied by footsteps. Cora's sight remained glued to the direction of the bottom of her bed. This couldn't be happening, she thought. This was impossible. There was no way this could be real. But then why… why… why the hell was Trevor here?

It was him. He had all the physical features she could easily recognize; the black, curly hair, the green eyes, his tall height, his thin frame… What she was seeing was all too real, no matter how much she couldn't believe this. As the sounds of footsteps and crunching got closer to her, she saw none other than Trevor Marsh slowly walking towards her, and even in the dim light of the full moon, she could instantly tell that there was something very, very wrong with him. The detectives had lied to her, that had to be it, there was no other way. He was alive. That broken neck hadn't killed him. But then why the hell was his head dangling just less than a centimeter above his left shoulder? And why did he look this insanely pale? With every step that Trevor took, his broken neck produced a cracking noise, unable to keep his head up any longer. Not once did he look away from his horrified former fiancée, and though his eyes were staring at her from an awkward angle, Cora could clearly see that they were filled to the brim with nothing but pure, unbridled rage. The one thing that made his sudden appearance even more frightening was the fact that he was holding a butcher knife in his hand, clenching the handle tight with fury; the same knife that he had used while trying to take her life.

Trevor's head rolled to the back of his shattered neck, and the crunching that followed would make Cora sick to her stomach, and even then his furious gaze didn't leave her.

'You…' Trevor whispered hoarsely. 'You… bitch… you… did this to me!'

Cora attempted to say something back to him, wanting to ask him how this was possible, where he came from, to get the hell away from her, so many things, but it was like the sheer horror of this sight had taken away her speech. All she could do was press her trembling, sore body against the closet, her limbs too numb for them to work and stare at him. All of a sudden, her entire skin went cold, and it wasn't because of the immense fear that had fully taken her over. It was like Trevor's sole presence had brought this freezing cold temperature along with him, as she saw her own breath in the form of small clouds in front of her before quickly disappearing in thin air, like on a winter day.

'None of this would have happened if you didn't try to fuck me over, Cora!' Trevor spat at her, his neck continuing to crack and crunch as his head rolled around. 'Did you think you could pull that shit on me?! Holding back money?! Trying to leave me?! Because I want to have nice things?! After everything I did for you?! You… don't know how long I have been waiting for this. I can't move on until I make you pay for what you've done! You… fucking… bitch!'

Immediately after bellowing that last word, her enraged fiancé charged at her with the butcher knife raised high in the air, reading the finish what he had started a month ago. It was seeing the blade glistening in the dim light that made Cora's legs regain feeling, more than enough for her to do something that instantly jumped to her mind; run for her damn life. Cora screamed at the top of her lungs as she dodged out of the way, got back up on her feet and ran towards the door, just before the blade launching into the closet with so much force that it went straight through the wood. Everything inside Cora was telling, no, screaming at her to not look behind her, because if she did, the sight of an enraged Trevor who appeared to be very much alive despite his neck being unable to support his head, would instantly paralyze her with pure fear again and be her undoing. Cora rushed down the stairs, and her second coherent action right after fleeing from the bedroom was to grab her cellphone and dial 9-1-1 to plead at the operator to send someone over to Holland Lane to come save her from her deranged former fiancé who was believed to be dead and maybe also tell them that Detectives Jackson and Moore were two filthy, fucking liars. Her breath shuddered as her fingers touched the screen of her phone that had been still in her pocket when she had fallen asleep, thank God, oh thank God, but that relief was short-lived when she saw the landscape of deep cracks on the device's screen, undoubtedly caused by the massive impact she had hit the closet with, one of them being so deep that it nearly broke the phone in half, and thus rendering it completely useless. Cora's eyes widened once more as she shrieked in the realization that her only lifeline was no longer an option. Her own feet almost turned out to be her downfall for a moment, tripping over each other and nearly causing her to fall, but she managed to hold onto the railing before she could do so.

The bedroom hadn't been the only area of the house to be unusually cold for a summer night; the sheer cold had spread throughout the entire house, but at that moment, there was no time for Cora to wonder how in the world this was possible. Once she reached the bottom of the stairs, she instantly sprinted towards the only hope she had of getting out of here; the front door. Her heart was beating so heavily and fast in her dried-up throat that it hurt, but honestly, it's incredible what your senses can block out at the moment where adrenaline and fear rushes through your body. Cora reached out with her hand towards the doorknob, which she hastily twisted as soon as she touched it, and on the very moment where she could hear crunching mixed with a furious scream descending down the stairs, she swung the door open.

Outside… she was outside! She had to go somewhere, she had to find help, anywhere! Fear still kept Cora in its grip as she darted across the front yard, heading straight towards the street. Please God, let there be a neighbor awake at this hour, please make them let her in, please-

Just as she was halfway crossing the street, a bright light appeared in the corner of her right eye and less than a second later, it did not only briefly blind her when she turned her head to see what it was coming from, but somebody slammed on what a to be the break of a vehicle, because the sound of screeching tires abruptly broke the silence of Holland Lane. Cora let out a yelp as she tripped, falling onto the concrete with a painful thud. She held up her hand to shield her eyes from the blinding light. That's when she saw where that bright light was coming from; it was coming from two headlights of what turned out to be a black van that had managed to come to a screeching halt just in time before hitting her.

A man who was most likely a little older than her with short platinum blonde hair and entirely clad in black almost immediately opened the driver's side's door and jumped out.

'What the hell is wrong with you?!' Darby Allin shouted at the young woman lying on the road. 'I could have run you over!'

Of course Cora would have said something back to him, but even now, she was unable to produce any words, staring at the blonde man's with wide, frightened eyes. Apparently he had quickly figured out that she wasn't going to get back up on her feet on her own, because right after he was done yelling at her, Darby quickly walked towards her and knelt down to her, casting a long shadow on the illuminated concrete behind them.

'Come on, let's get you up.' he calmly said, clearly sounding like he wasn't annoyed to the point where he couldn't care less about her wellbeing, but still slightly annoyed nonetheless. But just as he was about to grab Cora's arm, the young woman's eyes suddenly fixated on something behind him; something that was approaching them with startling speed, had a broken neck and was ready for the kill.

'Look out!' she screamed, perhaps loud enough to wake up some of the neighbors. And just as Darby stood up and turned around to see what was approaching them, Cora heard something sharp ripping through what had to be fabric and flesh, followed by a hard thud caused by the impact of a swinging fist, strung enough to fling him over the pavement. Cora loudly gasped as she saw what exactly Trevor's knife had been slicing through; in the light of the van's headlights, she saw a red liquid leaking through a gash made in Darby's black t-shirt and from its fabric, staining the skin on his stomach and dripping onto the road. The young man groaned in pain as he attempted to stop the bleeding by pressing his hand on the wound, causing thick streams of blood to trickle between his fingers. It was more than clear that Trevor wasn't going to stop there. A deep, slow crunch could be heard when he tilted his head forward as he slowly walked towards Darby. That's when Cora saw his body darken with blackness, as if ink had been injected into his body and was spreading out, slowly creeping up to his torso.

'No…' he growled with a voice that had started to distort into an eerily deep pitch. 'I have waited too long already for my chance to get back at this bitch… I'm not going to let you ruin it! Like hell I will!'

His darkening fist was then raised in the air with the fingers tightly clenched around the bloodied butcher knife.

'Trevor! No!' Cora screamed, and since her legs refused to work with her, she reached out with her hand. That's when she saw it… something that somehow was even more unbelievable and surreal than her former fiancé rising from the dead. It was entirely painless, but she still felt some of it. A brief warmth warmed up her whole hand as a brightly burning fireball emerged from the palm in the blink of an eye, shooting straight at Trevor's hand before she could even let out a gasp of astonishment. Even though it hadn't caused Cora pain, it clearly did to Trevor, as the intense burning created by the flames made him immediately drop the knife and let out a distorted shout of pain. As he cradled his burned hand, he managed to roll his head with a soft crack just far enough to glare at Cora; it was at this point where his head too was swallowed up by the blackness, rendering his eyes as two small, white, glowing dots.

Cora briefly stared at her hand in complete and utter confusion. What… What in the world was that…? What just happened…?

This was the moment where Darby Allin had found the perfect opportunity to fight back. Unbeknownst to Cora, she had bought him right enough time to make his heart stop beating and lunge at Trevor with a loud grunt, one hand glowing with a purple light grabbing on one side while the other held onto the other one, glowing just as bright. Another distorted scream erupted from Trevor (or rather, that dark humanoid figure that had resembled him mere minutes ago) as Darby's finger dug deep into his skin.

Cora's eyes had remained fully widened when she had stared at her hand and they continued to remain so when she witnessed Darby vertically ripping her attacker in half, as if he was made of nothing but paper. No guts, bone chips, torn muscles or blood were splattered onto the concrete; his torn body immediately disintegrated into a black mist before both sides completely disappeared.