Kings Lioness: Here you are. Thanks for waiting!
Oxymoronic-conundrum: And this is the chapter that will make you even more glued, I hope. I apologize for the immense wait! But I hope it's worth it!
Catreddick4: The demons were at the Miller's Mansion, but have since moved out, as they figured the Millers and Halliwells would not be back there. They are all now at the Halliwell mansion in San Fransisco.
Aussie-Soccerfreak4: I really appreciate your praise and review, Bethie! I am proud of this story but I am even more glad that you like it!
A/N: I sincerely apologize for the lengthy wait! With school starting, I was getting back into the flow of classes and after school activities, adding one more to my year: cross country. I have been running copiously, singing with the Chamber Singers as we prepare for two competitions and two more appearances this month (one today), keeping track of my House crew for our High school production of Guys and Dolls, and auditioning for two Children's Theatre shows. I have recently been diagnosed with "walking pneumonia" which has halted my cross country running and has made me kinda out of it. But I finished my doses of antibiotics and within the next week, any bit of sickness should be gone and I will be back to my old self again. I again wish to apologize! I hope this chapter makes up for it all!
This is the climatic chapter of "Choice of Eight" and my favorite, the second-to-last in the story (don't worry, a sequel is in progress, slowly!) It is extreamly sad and a bit bloody and gory, and I hope I did not lack on the detail. It is a long one, nearly 10 pages by my computer standards, so I hope it's not too tedious to read, but hopefully it will keep you into the story long enough to get to the end of the chapter. So, sit back, grab some Kleenex, and get ready for some good sht! Lol. Just kidding! But I hope you enjoy it!
-30-
The demon, Sarax, a huge monster with a bluish tinge to his matty skin, long gray teeth and a large purple horn sprouting from his forehead, was lounging on a white wicker love seat in the Halliwell's spacious conservatory, his feet up and arms behind his head comfortably, eyes closed to the brightness around him. There had been no sign of the witches returning to the manor, and while he could, Sarax was perfectly content to get some rest. Why not? His master would not leave the attic above him, for fear that the witches would arrive there, and the other demons on patrol downstairs were in other rooms, and wouldn't dare abandon their posts, even to reprehend a fellow demon. And even if the witches did come, Sarax was an upper-level demon, who was almost as powerful as the Source of All Evil himself. He could take care of the witches. Sighing deeply, he stretched further out on the love seat.
A bright blue glow suddenly shone through his eyelids and, curiously, he opened his eyes. What he saw shocked him. Eight women were standing calmly before him, two of them armed with small glass vials with red liquid inside, not threatening looking from first glance, but once realized their purpose, terrifying.
"What-" The demon's shock had evaporated almost at once, but as he was rising from the love seat, the witch with long auburn hair threw a vial at him. Before he could make another move and before the words were halfway out of his mouth, the potion hit him hard in the side and all he could do was gasp as he was engulfed in flame, then exploded into oblivion.
Samantha, who had thrown the potion, watched appreciatively as the last specks of dust fluttered to the floor. "Not even a yell," she nodded. "That's lucky for us," she added, relief on her face and in her voice.
"Maybe not," Prue said, releasing Lucy's arm, her eyes on the hallway behind them, where another cloaked demon had stopped in the doorway. He had head Sarax's exclamation and had come to investigate, in case he was needed, and what he saw as he stepped across the foyer made him stop, astounded. The eight women in the room had turned sharply as the demon's eyebrows furrowed and he hastily swept an arm across himself as he tried to remove his cloak.
"What the hell are-"
"Prue, throw it!" Piper said sharply, but Prue was already moving and had thrown the potion at the demon's feet as soon as he had opened his mouth. This time, their luck faded, and a loud yell escaped from the demon's lips as he flailed his arms, beating himself with his hands as he was eaten by the flames that had erupted around him. Almost faster than they could blink, the demon had exploded loudly into a blast of heat and power that almost knocked the women over.
"That wasn't good," Heather muttered as her ears picked up a frantic pound on the ceiling above her, as if someone had fallen off of a chair in shock, then a crash, as if a wooden piece of furniture had broken.
"They have to be in the attic," Prue commented, looking around hastily to see if there were any more sentries on guard. Seeing none, she hastily said, "Where else would Zoltof be?" She started for the stairs as she said this, but Lucy grabbed her arm quickly, holding her back.
"Shouldn't we orb?" Lucy asked Prue. "We'll take them by surprise. I mean, at least we'll have a small element of surprise."
Piper nodded her agreement, grabbing Paige's hand in preparation of orbing. "She's got a point."
"But wait," Sam broke in, quickly, her eye troubled and stomach twisting. "Won't they be expecting that? I mean, that's what they're waiting for. They'll be tracking our orbs in order to warn themselves of our presence. They already know we're here after all and they could be setting up a trap."
Piper released Paige's hand slowly, looking dejected. "She also has a point," she mumbled, waving a hand towards Sam.
"Anything is better than just running upstairs to be blasted into oblivion as soon as we walk in the door," Kate spoke softly, her eyes on Prue, who nodded. "I mean, we will have the slight advantage if we orb. They won't know where we'll land, after all."
"Right. We orb," Prue decided, beckoning to Heather to take her hand again. "Then, we throw the potions and hold them all off as much as we can until Lucy and Paige get the holding crystals around Zoltof and he's trapped. Heather and I will say the spell then."
Eight hands locked together again, and everyone nodded automatically. It was there only plan, and the way that Prue spoke, the encouraging, confident way made them all more confident. "OK," Heather said. "Let's do it. Blessed be."
"Blessed be."
Blue orbs sparkled around the eight women once again, and they were all disintegrated into the lights one last time.
Zoltof was making his way around the Halliwell's attic floor for the hundredth time, pacing up and down. He couldn't help it. He and his demons had arrived at the mansion long hours ago, but the witches had not come back. Where could they have gone? They couldn't have stayed in the Underworld. He had already sent an agent to check and word came back assuring him of the fact. The only trace of the witches down there was a pool of blood-soaked sand where the eldest Magicked One had lain dying in her sister's arms. The witches weren't at the Magicked One's home either, because someone had checked three hours ago, and it was unlikely that they had returned after the demon had left. They would have gone already. But where else could they be and what were they planning?
The huge figure bellowed out his anger and grabbed a wooden chair that was seated at a nearby table and lifted it into the air, hurling it towards two demon sentries, who ducked instinctively. As Zoltof yelled, another scream echoed through the air, but he imagined it was just one of his cowarding, ducking demons. One of them fell to the floor with a crash as the other knocked into him, the chair missing his head by inches. The chair smashed against the wall behind them with a loud crash, and chunks of wood scattered the floor beneath where it hit. But as the demons were looking up frantically, checking themselves to see if they were injured, white lights dropped from the ceiling with a bright twinkle.
Zotolf gaped in shock as both the Charmed Ones and the Magicked Ones appeared from the lights, holding each other's hands, and all of them grim-faced and determined. He couldn't believe that the witches were all standing in front of him...nor that all of them were alive. That one, the witch with long brown hair clutching the hand of the young blond...she was dead! Lynxe was supposed to have...no! Lynxe had killed her! She had stabbed that witch through the abdomen, and no help had arrived for them as their sister lay bleeding on the cave floor.
Zoltof's hesitation favored the witches. At once, Prue had shouted, "Go, now!" and she felt Lucy and Paige orb away and back again instantly at a different part of the room, surrounding the stunned Zoltof and stooping quickly to place crystals on the floor. Before Zoltof could react, they had orbed out again, knowing that their speed could save their lives.
That was when all Hell broke loose. Zoltof and his demons finally jerked into action as Paige lay down the second crystal next to the bookshelf. "NO!" He screamed, and pointed a bloody and ugly claw at the Magicked Ones, bellowing, "Get them! Kill them!" But his demons were already moving. All of them saw a chance to make a name for themselves in Zotolf's eyes. Zoltof existed only to destroy these witches and their legacy and if a demon were to kill at least one, the reward would be great. Besides, they wouldn't be outnumbered for long, not with reinforcements everywhere in the manor. No doubt the other demons had heard the commotion.
The first demon to hurry forward burst into flame result of a potion that was thrown by Kate, but the next one was able to throw an energy ball towards the group of witches. Prue was too quick for him and deflected it with her powers, sending it smashing into the wall beside her, blasting a hole in it and showering the women in bits of plaster.
Without thinking, Sam had launched herself at another demon: the quivering Justain, who had nearly killed her once before. Now, Sam was in a passionate fury and more than ready to face the weak demon, exchanging punches and kicks with him at once, trying to get him off his balance.
Piper set to as well, attempting first to freeze the room. When that failed (all the demons merely shook off the power) she resulted to molecular combustion, though she knew the demons would not explode. They were too strong, but she could, at least, distract them. Heather, too, tried to blow them up beside her, but was also throwing potion after potion as fast as she could into the demonic fray. It wasn't until the sisters had thrown six bottles combined that they realized the demons kept coming. As one demon died, two more were shimmering into the room and joining the fight.
Battle had exploded in the attic, picking up intensity with each passing minute. Seeing the desperation of the situation, Heather's mind raced. "Piper!" She screamed over the noise, fighting her way to her Halliwell kin. "We've to do it together! Blow them up at the same time or they'll never die!" The two witches counted out loud together, perfectly in unison as they used their powers. "One! Two! THREE!" The demon blocking their way screamed and burst into millions of pieces before their eyes in a satisfying way. Their spirits leapt as they saw that they could kill demons together and they kept at it relentlessly.
Prue and Kate worked together now, one knocking a demon off its feet with her power, the other throwing a potion, each of them smiling grimly with each scream. The eight witches were slowly defeating their foe, one by one.
With two crystals left in her hand, Lucy had just orbed to a spot close to the Book of Shadows (which lay untouched and unscathed despite the fire blasting around it) when she looked up impulsively and met Zoltof's red eyes. Zoltof had been trying to hurl energy balls at the defiant witches, but everything was moving too fast around him and he even hit his own demons instead of his foe, more of them than not. Those damn witches were everywhere he wasn't! Then, on instinct, he had turned on his heel to see the youngest Magicked One orb beside the podium, clutching a crystal in either hand. She looked up suddenly as she knelt and he executed his move. With a swipe of his hand, Zoltof's powers caught Lucy up in green electricity and sent her telekinetically flying across the room. She screamed as she shot through the air, but her voice was sharply cut off as she smashed into the bookshelf a few feet away and dropped like the stones she had been carrying, which fell from her limp hand. Lucy hit the floor hard and with a crash that alerted Paige, but Lucy stayed down, motionless and unconscious.
Paige saw what had happened, but as the crystals rolled across the floor, she kept her head and dropped her own crystal, the last in her hand, to the ground quickly, continuing the ever-closing circle around Zoltof, then, without thinking, she orbed to Lucy, who's blond hair was slowly becoming crimson with blood appearing from the back of her head somewhere. As soon as Paige could bend down after she materialized, she did, and grabbed the fallen stones, immediately orbing out again and barely missing the same fate as Lucy as Zoltof shot electricity towards her too. She reappeared instantaneously behind Zoltof and put a crystal on the floor, but when he turned, almost falling to the ground as he tripped over his own feet in his haste, she had gone.
But just as Paige set down the final crystal, the door of the attic burst open. Reinforcements for the demons had finally arrived to join the fight. As the door was blasted open, Sam was jerked from her feet by the power that had crashed the door and she hit a couch hard, flipping over it, just like she had done the first time Lynxe had attacked her family. She was knocked senseless instantly as her head cracked against the floor and she landed on the ground and lay still.
Prue had also been thrown across the room as well, to smash into the bookshelf like Lucy, whom the unconscious Prue now fell on top of, along with several heavy books and volumes that dropped from the shelves in the impact. The demons paid no attention to the fallen witches, as they were not a threat any longer. Instead, they joined the fight eagerly, focusing on their targets, hurling a fresh wave of energy balls into the crowded attic and soon overpowering the Magicked and Charmed Ones.
"The crystals are set!" Paige had time to yell into the noise that was building, hoping that any one had heard her. The demons and the witches both panicked as they had, indeed, all heard. Piper fought harder, trying to blow demons apart as Kate tried to thrust them away from her. Phoebe was blocking another demon's punches and kicks with her own, and had just taken a blow from the fist of the demon to her collarbone. She hollered in pain, dropping to her knees, but at he same time, kicking out to trip the demon, who fell with a resounding crash, only to have Phoebe leap on him and, despite her injury, fasten her arms around his throat tightly.
It was then, through all the chaos that was coming from the end of the battle in sight, that Justain saw his chance to redeem himself in Zoltof's eyes. There was a sudden gap in the demons as they wound around the room fighting, and he found himself staring directly into Kate's eyes. He had not been able to kill her the first time they had met, as her sister had taken the energy ball instead. But now, he would not-he could not fail, not when the witch was right there, unprotected, separate from her sisters. There was no one to help her this time.
With a howl of triumph, Justain shimmered out and reappeared at once behind Kate. She saw him vanish and felt, or sensed, his return and had turned halfway around before Justain had caught her up by the throat. She struggled at once, and her fist, that was clutched around her last potion, connected wildly with his neck. He dropped her as the glass shattered, cutting into Kate's hand, but she paid no attention as she fell to the floor, gasping. Justain howled in pain as the potion splattered on his face and chest, but it did not cause him to explode, for it was not powerful enough for him, the right hand demon of the Source! He roared as blisters sprung up on his cheeks and face, but he was infuriated. The witch had slipped from his grasp again! His swollen eyes squinted open slowly and darted around the room, but he saw Kate a split-second later, on the ground at his feet, struggling to catch her breath and climb to her feet.
Before she could even look up, his hatred had overcome him and he had swiped down and struck her jaw with his fist, combining his telekinetic powers with the punch as he stooped. Her head jerked back at the impact and she was blasted off the floor and was thrown through the air from the power.
Time seemed to stand still. Heather, who had heard Justain roar and turned to find out the reason, saw what happened next as if a path had been forged through the mele that had been made just to force her to witness what happened.
Her arms and legs flailing in the air, Kate was thrown backwards towards the wall opposite from where Prue and Lucy lay. Fragments of the chair Zoltof had destroyed were jumbled together on the floor, the sizes of pieces ranging from splinters to blocks of the unnaturally sharp wood. Later, Heather would think that she was right beside her sister as Kate had hit the peak of flight and began her downward progress. Heather's mouth dropped open in a silent scream and her eyes were wide as she watched.
Kate's form plunged downward and continued to plummet, her arms flailing hopelessly, and then, with a sickening sound, she landed squarely on a large fragment of splintered wood that was braced upright by other remains. Its thick and deadly shaft shot through her back instantly, and shattered her spinal cord as it plunged through her body, finally spurted through her abdomen, pushing blood in front of it so it showered into the air like crimson rain. Kate's sharp exclamation of pain was abruptly cut off as she finally stopped moving, and lay impaled on the floor, her eyes squeezing shut, then opening again.
"NO!" Heather's lungs felt like they were tearing as she screamed with all the air in her. She tried to sprint forward, but a blast of power from an unknown source hit her and she was slammed into the wall behind her instead. Her head buzzing, Heather slid to the floor, then felt Piper scramble over to her side hastily and seize one of her arms, hauling her upright. Heather staggered weakly against the Halliwell, blood trickling down her forehead, but Piper gritted her teeth and supported her as best she could.
"Heather!" Piper shouted, her eyes never leaving Zoltof's face. "We have to read the spell! We have to do it now!" Piper shouted into Heather's ear. Seeing Heather's eyes grow dull and feeling her sister witches' legs give slightly against her, Piper hoisted Heather up farther, then slapped the woman on the face to bring her to her senses. Seeing Heather blink a few times at the slap, Piper hastily unfolded the paper on which the spell was written. Piper clung onto Heather's arm as she brandished the spell in front of Heather's eyes and they read it together.
"Prudence, Laurel, Patricia, Amanda."
At Heather's gasping, painful, but clear words, Zoltof's feet burst aflame and he screamed, trying to stumble around to escape the fire, but the crystal cage erupted in power as he reached its boarders and he was flung backwards into the center painfully. The cage held.
"Penelope, Carla, Melinda, Rachel."
The flames rose to Zoltof's middle as Piper read her bit of the spell clearly, not daring to look up, and holding Heather tighter to herself.
"Matriarchs of Our Families,"
As the witches' voices mingled with each other as they both read out loud, Zoltof's torso caught fire and burned steadily. The demon's screams and pleas for freedom and life were drowned out by the two witches, who shouted the last line of the spell, desperate, connected, clear.
"Vanquish this Evil
From Time and Space!"
A fresh wave of flame licked Zoltof's clothes before suddenly engulfing his entire body in heat and pain. As he screamed his agony to the witches, he was silenced by a rocking explosion of power that ripped him apart from the inside out. The blast slid delicately over the Halliwells and Millers, but no demon escaped it alive. As it tore the demon followers apart, Piper clutched Heather to her, the screams and cries echoing around her, until a second blast, more powerful than the first, ripped through the attic, knocking the women to their feet, blowing out the stained glass windows, shattering tables and mirrors. But When it died, every demonic creature died with it.
Piper blinked through the ringing silence and lifted her head to look around. Zoltof was no more than a tiny pile of blackened ash in the center of the room, which caught the wind and lifted into oblivion. His demons were gone forever, no trace of them anywhere. Piper turned on her legs to embrace Heather, but the woman was pulling herself from Piper's grasp and struggling to stand.
With a wrenching sob, Heather tore away from Piper and stumbled across the room, struggling over blocks and fragments of wood and glass to fall where Kate was lying impaled by the chunk of wood from the shattered chair. Dropping to her knees beside her sister, Heather nearly vomited at what she saw as her eyes cleared.
Her sister's normally tan, beautiful, unblemished face was dead white, her lips tinging blue, and her eyes...her once proud, thoughtful and loving eyes were oddly bright, but at the same time, all the knowledge and love that normally swam in them was dim as she was staring at the ceiling in shock. Her graceful hands were clenched up roughly by her shoulders as if she didn't dare put them down for fear of more pain. Her breath was coming in ragged gasps, causing blood to pulse from the cracks where belly met wood. The stake, which was one of the sharpest blocks of the destroyed chair, protruded six inches from the girl's body and it was drenched in Kate's blood.
At Kate's side, Heather was paralyzed with the gruesomeness of the wound and shock of the events. She didn't know what to do. She didn't know where to put her trembling hands. She didn't know where to look, what to say, how to move. Finally, desperately, she slid her arms under Kate's torso and slid herself under it so that she supported Kate with her own body. Kate coughed roughly as she was moved and jolted, her eyes widening slightly in pain, gasping out air as quickly as she drew it in.
"Oh, my God," Heather whispered, feeling the dampness of Kate's hair, which had been soaking in her own blood. Indeed, most of Kate's back and torso were drenched in the crimson blood, tons of it. "Kate...K-" Heather couldn't speak. She felt her sister's blood soaking through her jeans as she held Kate and swallowed hard at the thought, swallowing vomit and fighting to keep her head, feeling each of Kate's jerky movements when she fought for air, each spontaneous muscle spasm.
"H-Heath-" The name faded off Kate's lips as she fought hard to stay awake through the sudden blackness of her vision, trying to focus on the sister that she loved so much. Kate knew that she was fading fast and that nothing could be done to help her. She dimly felt her sister's touch, felt the sharpness and dullness of the wood that was driven through her own stomach, felt each drawing breath as painful as it could be. People talk about feeling no pain at the brink of death, but here Kate learned the truth. The pain was magnified and sharp, piercing her very heart. She could barely speak, for she was ever fighting for air to fill her depleting lungs.
Heather's dark brown hair spilled over her shoulders as she shook her head. "No," she said, putting her forehead to Kate's. It was cold. "No, I can't...can't let this happen." She reached for the wood, numbly thinking on removing it, but suddenly, Kate's hand was at her own, staying Heather's hand.
"Don't-" Kate gasped, squeezing her eyes shut as she gulped hard. Trying to shake her head, and still clasping Heather's hand so she couldn't reach for the stake, she repeated, "Don't...H-Heather...It's...t-too late..." She grunted in pain, her torso twitching as her body began to shake involuntarily, allowing blood to steam out of her wound again, squeezing past the wood and over the already-soaking fabric of her shirt and onto the floor. Her hand closed weakly around Heather's and tried to squeeze it reassuringly, but nothing happened, nothing responded. "Heath-th..." she choked again, her words almost too quietly for Heather to hear. Heather leaned forward, closer, tears streaming down her cheeks, trying to hear what her sister was saying. "I c-can't...f-feel...legs..."
Moaning in grief and disbelief, Heather's numb brain desperately alerted her to her whitelighter's help and told her to shout into the air, "Jay," scream for her whitewater, for anyone, for any help. When no orbs appeared instantly beside her, she helplessly looked down again at her sister, fighting to control the quaver in her voice, but it cracked audibly when she yelled frantically out again, lifting her head to the heavens. "Jay!"
"You have to let me go!" Jay Edwards was being forcibly restrained by three white-robed Elders as he fought to dislodge them with his body. He heard Heather's scream and had seen what had happened. He was desperate to get down there, to heal his wife, to help. The Elders had to restrain him at the moment the wood entered Kate's body, as he saw all, and as he had tried to orb to her at once, but now he was fighting them harder than ever, scratching, tearing, biting, tears dripping to his cheeks. "That's my wife! Kate! No! Heather! I hear you! Kate!"
"You are not allowed-" began an Elder, but Jay sprang at him, angry glittering welling in his blue eyes, a look of pure fury and helplessness on his face. "NO! She is a Magicked One! My wife! Their sister! She can't...you can't leave her to-"
A solid blow from an Elder's fist struck Jay squarely between skull and neck and the whitelighter went limp in their grasp at once, his words fading off his lips in a soft groan. "I'm sorry, Jay," the Elder who had struck him whispered into his ear, as his fellows helped him lay Jay down on the cloudy ground. "This is for the Greater Good."
"He...c-can't come," Kate gasped as her stomach jerked again, trying vainly and involuntarily to dislodge the deadly stake from her belly.
Heather's eyes were blurred with tears as they swept the room, even more desperately and they fell on Prue and Lucy slmost immediately. It took a few seconds, then Heather realized Lucy's new powers. "Lucy," she whispered, but hearing her own voice yelling, horse and gritty. "Lucy! Get up!" She shifted her grip on Kate in her arms and whispered again, "Kate...she needs...she has to..." But her youngest made no move from beneath Prue. She was motionless, unconscious, her blond hair streaked with red and her legs twisted under her, her arm crushed by Prue and heavy books. "LUCY!" Heather finally was able to scream, her heart wrenching, but a sharp gasp from Kate caused her to return her gaze to the sister in her lap. As blood soaked her hands and arms even more copiously, Heather felt Kate's life ebbing fast, slipping to the floor in the waves of crimson liquid. "No," she moaned again, shaking Kate's upper body slightly, ignoring the wound and Kate's wimpers of pain, trying to jolt Kate awake.
The younger Miller felt the stabbing wood even more now, and worked her muscles hard and fought to smile as she gazed into her older sister's face through dull, wonderful eyes. "You...you're beau-beautiful," she choked, quietly, gasping again, her body jerking with every harsh intake of air. She didn't know what do say, didn't know what do do. Her mind was slowly closing down. It wasn't numb, it wasn't alive. But slowly and weakly, Kate's hand raised to touch Heather's cheek briefly, beofre falling again to limply clasp Heather's hand at her chest in one of the last controlled movements her consciousness could create. As Heather gripped it tightly, Kate watched her, studied her, taking in every detail about her loved sister before she wouldn't be able to, memorizing every crease, every dimple, every freckle. "I...love-" She began, but broke off painfully, eyes closing, coughing once, twice, a gurgling issuing from her throat. Opening her eyes again, Kate tried to clear her throat, fought to speak as she felt blackness closing in on her vision, her senses, her heart. "It's...no one's...fault," she whispered, her eyes locked onto Heather's now, not looking away, even as she hissed in pain and arched her back sharply."I love...y-you all...tell...Sam...L-Lucy...I lo-love th-them." She gulped once more, swallowing and tasting the sour, metallic blood.
"No," Heather whispered. "No, you can't leave me," she told her sister. "Why couldn't it be me?" Heather pleaded, moaning, gasping, crying, holding her beloved sister even closer to her body, now savoring every drop of blood that soaked from Kate's body into her own shirt. Heather held Kate fast, lovingly stroking her hair, whispering without thinking, "Why not me?"
"H-Heath..." Kate was fading for the last time now. Her hand gently squeezed Heather's with the last of her strength as she stared unblinkingly and lovingly into Heather's chocolate brown eyes and whispered, while coughing out a stream of thick, dark blood, "I l-love...you. For...eternity..." Her chest jerked one lsat time and her voice trailed away finally as her eyes clouded over. She was staring straight through Heather now, no longer at her, and a pool of blood could not be swallowed as it bubbled in her throat and mouth and dribbled down the corner of her blue lips and down her chin as she died.
Heather couldn't believe it. She was in shock. It couldn't have happened. This wasn't happening. Her sister was not...a dream...it was all a dream...one terrifying dream where her beloved Kate...her sister, her best friend...
"Why couldn't it have been me!" Heather suddenly screamed to the heavens. "Why her? Why Kate? What didn't you take me? Why?" She screamed hard, ignoring her protesting lungs and throat, staring at the ceiling as if waiting for an answer from above, then she was swallowed by grief. Her chest jerked from sobs that finally released from inside her, and with them flowed everything. All the feelings, emotions, thoughts, desires that had locked themselves away when her parents died now streamed from her in the form of tears and crying at the loss of her sister. Her mind did not register anything: not the pain of her own skull, the blood on her face, the hard, damp floor, her saturated clothing, the warm wetness on her arms, the pain in her heart. Heather's head dropped to Kate' cold forehead again and she clasped her sister's limp hand to her bosom, rocking back and forth on the blood-soaked floor with Kate sprawled limply and still slightly warm in her arms. Finally, after long minutes and with a huge effort, she opened her eyes and looked up with tears swimming in her eyes. With a trembling hand, forcing herself, resigned, Heather gently pressed Kate's eyelids closed over her gray, sightless eyes for the last time.
This was how the Miller sisters regained consciousness. As each opened their eyes painfully and lifted their heads from the blood-soaked ground, they all immediately sensed that something was wrong. Looking around frantically, hoping for the best but resigned somehow, to realize the worst, they would find Heather, the eldest Miller, their eldest sister, the strength and heart of their family, clutching Kate's broken and bloody body to herself. Kate did not flinch, move, breathe. She was gone. How long Heather knelt on the bloody floor, gripping her sister's shoulders with her own arms, her hands clasped around Kate's body, she did not know, but she continued to do so, her head in Kate's chest, rocking back and forth and sobbing her dead sister's name over and over.