The odd little girl was never one to blink. It was as if her eyes were frozen open from a young age. Her eyes disturbed the other children, so they avoided her for it. Her manners were odd as well, much like an old soul in a young body. As they grew up, discomfort turned into annoyance. Annoyance became anger. They pushed her into the outhouse shed by the old manor whilst it was snowing. They piled snow against the door so she wouldn't be able to open it.

When the adults came to look for her, she had broken out and spent the night in the old manor. They found her curled up before an empty fireplace. The old man who lived there died overnight, and she was holding onto his body though it held no warmth.

Her parents had not thought anything odd about her returning to them, and she said nothing but what assuaged their fears. She had not lost any fingers or toes to frostbite, though she was near frozen purple.

But she still loved the cold and winter. Summer was too hot, and she burned easily. Spring made it hard to breathe. The only thing good about fall was that it meant winter was coming. When she learned about that horrible thing called climate change that would warm the earth, she screamed all the way to the nurse's office.

The pastor was passing by on his religious tour through the town when he heard of the drownings that happened. They were curious events, unlike what one expects from the normal river stories. The bodies were not macerated by the water. They were, to a degree, partially frozen so they did not fully rot. The town was on edge as a result.

After one of his sermons, she approached him.

"Oh holy father…" She seemed like a pure child before him, "I have to confess…."

He saw that she was holding an ugly, misshapen stuffed bear. It was likely homemade. She was holding it tightly to herself with both arms.

"What burdens you, child?" His blank eyes betray nothing. He had his suspicions.

"I delight in seeing the cold. And I pleasure myself in seeing its power," Her lifeless eyes look up to him, "I am guilty of this envy for beauty in my heart."

"We are all imperfect. This world is but an imperfect shell. It will one day be made whole and perfect by the work of the angels."

"Angels?"

"Yes, the angels. They are beautiful and perfect creatures in what they do and their perfection spreads in their deeds… life and death," He tilts his head slightly as he looks down, smiling, "They will be the ones to save this world."

She hadn't been expecting his words. Her eyes, lifeless still, widened at his speech. She was buying into it slowly, this answer from nowhere. It was filling her slowly with a beautiful vision.

"Tell me, child, would you like to see it? The beauty which surpasses any other?"

"… I've made many 'pictures' before. Each more beautiful than the last…" The girl breathes, "How beautiful will this be?"

"You will make many more pictures, and they will all be beautiful. But the final image will be the most beautiful thing you will ever see, and everyone will know… because you are an angel, Kirsten."

He almost made her drop her hidden knife. "An angel?"

"Yes."

It took her a moment to realize, "Father, how do you know my name?"

"I have been looking for angels like you, Kirsten. I have been searching far and wide, high and low for you…"

"Angels of Death."

The water was not particularly cold, but he was losing feeling in his body nonetheless. How long had this bitch been having her way with him? Far too fucking long. How long was Rachel going to be taking her sweet time? This is the real torture. Torture of waiting. It was completely mind numbing. It wasn't anything like when he stalked as he hunted. Was this how his victims felt with their lives at his mercy? Good grief, the next kill he made would be quick but still painful.

This made him think of those times back at that awful place. With those two godawful assholes of caretakers. They did sometimes drown him in a half-assed way as punishment. The man would shove his head in the sink. Sometimes the woman would do it to him as she scrubbed him down in the bath. She held him under to clean his hair and whatnot.

Come to think of it, he tried to kill him that way too. Some time before he burned him that day. Only, he did it with a bucket.

Of all the ways Zack ran into death, he hated drowning. It was possibly one of the worst ones. You didn't die quickly in a way you could see. Your screams weren't heard. All your body did was those ugly motions while spasming for oxygen. You wouldn't see anything worth seeing in the end. And then you black out. Dead. What a boring way to die. What a boring way to kill.

He remembered that first time. Without a chance to resist, he felt a hand grab his head and shove it into the plastic bucket filled with water. First he felt was that sensation much like this one, plunging into cold liquid. When he gasped, he only got water. So he fought. The grip was strong, and his push didn't quite cut it. His thrashing spilled a lot of water and he could hear the asshole cursing at him to hold still. He swallowed more water. The water level in the bucket was down past his ears at this point.

The doorbell rang and the guy got bored. He left Zack there on the floor while he went to go greet the mother with his cigarette-breath kisses. Zack coughed and shivered as he lay there. His mother yells at her lover for the mess.

One time he did actually black out. It was during one of the bath times. He had kicked her when she reached to submerge him. She got angry and grabbed the metal wash pan to press down on him, pushing him into the water. He pushed back at that weight on his chest amid the flurry of thoughts and bubbles. The bitch was putting her body weight on that. Of course he couldn't get free.

His lungs were screaming. He was screaming. He couldn't hear it though. He wasn't even sure his legs were still kicking, and his arms pushing. He wasn't sure how long that lasted. It sucks when you black out. You don't even know you fucking died.

The next thing he knew, he wasn't seeing much of anything, but he could feel the cold moving across his skin. Everything fucking hurt. When he opened his eyes, he was half buried in dirt. The caretaker with the shovel seemed surprised as hell to see him. So surprised that he smacked him with the shovel almost.

Yeah, that was it. Goddammit, he sure as hell wasn't going down that same way again…

"Zack?"

He didn't remember having closed his eyes. Next thing he knew, a small jolt made him twitch and wake up. The cold feeling never left him. His vision refocuses on the bitch keeping him in here.

"Ah, did you fall unconscious for a moment?" She smiles anemically, "Yes, it does get rather difficult to breathe, doesn't it…"

He glowers at her. She was right. There is a heaviness in breathing, and a cloud in his head. All he does is mutter a string of crass curses at her. Not that she could hear.

"Rachel is on her way here… I'll make sure to greet her in your stead, Zack."

"You…"

Rachel stares impassively at that familiar figure in the hallway. She wasn't surprised anymore at his mobility between the floors. The blind priest stares back at her intently with that complacent look of his, a slight smile on his lips.

"You're on your way to save Zack."

"Yes," She briskly moves to close the distance between them, "You're not needed here."

"Gabriel is one of the strongest angels. In such a way that it was thought that angel might have usurped god."

Rachel does not answer as she goes to pass him.

"But instead it was Lucifer. Instead it was you."

She pauses. They both stand side by side in the hallway. She still doesn't say a word.

"She is very much like you, Ray. At some point, she nearly lost her faith and had to be rehabilitated."

Rachel remembers that room with the beds. And that small room with no doors.

"So you put her there."

"Yes. Like how Danny had you relocated to his office."

"… I have my faith," She says as she resumes walking, dragging the sledgehammer.

"She found new faith in punishing traitors and taking them to the subzero hell they deserve. But what of your faith, witch?" He spat that last part out almost, "Do you really think you can save Zack?"

"I don't need to tell you… you wouldn't understand anyway," She comes to the end of the hallway. There is the vague outline of a concealed wall. With a swing, she dents it.

The priest watches silently as she breaks open the door. The hinge falls away to let out a small blast of chilled air. It opens to a hallway going to the left and right, with a familiar door across.

"To the left is the elevator to the next level. Ahead is the small room where you were first taken. The right is where your judgment awaits," The priest says casually, eyes on her small figure, "Answer me my query, witch. Dost thou think thine efforts can save anyone?"

Rachel takes a slight breather from the swinging and steps into the hallway. She turns and is about to go to the right. She gives the priest a sideways glance of boredom as she does so.

"God told me that Zack will definitely kill me. Even if Zack isn't my god. That is all I need for my faith."

And she walks from his sight. He stands for a few long moments, perhaps digesting her words. They were meaningless to him… or so he had initially thought they would be. With a slight smile, he goes to the elevator.

Around the bed, there was another door. Hanging by it is her bag. Rachel looks inside. Her sewing kit and gun are still there. There is one bullet left in the firearm chamber. She slings the bag over her shoulder and goes to try the door. It opens. There is the strong scent of chlorine. It's almost as bad as that fetid pool.

Before opening it all the way, she keeps her gun in hand. Then she steps into the chlorinated air. It's like a pool smell. The room is white tiled like an indoor pool as well. There are splatters of blood and other bodily fluids staining the white, and gruesome looking chains and hooks line the ceiling. There is a series of cameras in the corners of the ceiling, all fixated on that one large tank in the middle of the room. Amid the liquid inside, she sees the familiar head of black hair.

"Zack!"

Before she can run for him, a brute shove, almost like a smash, sends her rolling to the side. The door had crashed into her. It closes. Behind it was Kirsten. Rachel sits up and realizes her gun was knocked a few feet further. She keeps her eyes on the other as she pulls out a gun as well.

"You're finally here, Rachel…" Her voice really is a bit of a drawl. She would rather not deal with Lucifer.

"…Let Zack go."

The two of them engage in the dullest of staring contests. Kirsten raises her other hand. She is holding some kind of remote.

"Father Gray… I think I have found what is most beautiful…"

She presses something on it.

"The last thing his flame shall see before it dampens will be the traitor's death."

A tube snaps off from the mask amid a flurry of bubbles. Zack suddenly feels water flood his nose and mouth.

The damn bitch cut off the oxygen?!

From outside the tank, Rachel sees the submerged figure writhe in vain like a worm on a hook. Then there is some clanking sounds from the chains holding him in suspension. They release the man in the straitjacket, leaving him to sink slowly to the tank bottom, squirming.

"Come on then!"

Rachel feels a brute knock at her jaw as Kirsten kicks her while her attention was averted. Her eyes were glued to Zack, thrashing in the water like a fish would on land.

"What … did you do?" She darts onto her feet and avoids the butt of Kirsten's gun, skirting back a little. The gun is nearly in reach.

"One of the reasons recently for his radiance is you, traitor… he doesn't know what you did to taint him," Kirsten stares back with a cold deathly look, "When he sees you die… it will be the ultimate betrayal."

She shoots. But not at her head.

Rachel feels the pain in her leg. She lets out a small noise before falling to her knees. It was a graze along her shin, thankfully. Again, she looks to Zack in the tank.

She could tell he was looking at her as well. It was odd. They both had eye contact beyond what their brains could register. The struggles of the murderer in the water were visibly getting weaker. While she was looking at Zack, Kirsten elbows her on the side of the head. It is not as strong as if someone like, say, Cathy did, but it still sent her sprawling.

"Ugh…"

She rolls to the side slightly to dodge a shot. Damn, the gun is right there…

What the hell. Was he seriously going to die watching these two little girls fight? But his lungs and body were exhausted from all that thrashing as it was. Now he just flopped a little here and there, swallowing water, hungering for air. With the first gush he took, he felt his lungs explode. But there wasn't a bunch of blood and guts. He just felt heavy, and his body just moved less and less. But no matter what, his eyes kept watching. Even as those dark spots came and took up his vision. His thoughts were a complete frenzy as he blacked out.

Dammit dammit dammit, just KILL me already! Forget about me! KILL HER!

Rachel saw that body twitch a few more times before lying still in the tank. A few small streams of bubbles eventually dwindle to nothing. Her eyes widen.

Again, she left herself wide open for Kirsten.

The purple haired girl knocks her down with a smack of the side of her gun. Swiftly, before Rachel can recover, she slams a foot down on her little chest. The muzzle of her gun is pointed at Rachel's head now.

Rachel coughs slightly, "Ugh-!"

"I hope he didn't miss it…" For a moment, Kirsten glances towards the tank too, "Zack, you must still be watching…"

JUST KILL HER ALREADY!

For that small window afforded, Rachel brushes aside that foot. They were roughly the same size and weight. But her desperation made it count. She didn't even feel the pain in her leg. In a burst of movement, she scrambles for the gun. Kirsten shoots too late and grazes her ear, snipping off locks of her hair.

The only one who can kill me...

Her hands grab and feel that familiar piece of metal.

That's why I can't...

Time slows. Kirsten points at her. She turns around and points back with a flourish. Their eyes were locked. They both pull the trigger. It all happened at once.

BANG