Disclaimer: Not mine, title inspired by Mase's Breath, Stretch Shake

A/N: Thanks for the awesome reviews, you guys are wonderful, and make me want to neglect all my other responsibilities and spend all day writing. In conclusion, here's the next installment. I'm going to start a system, we'll see if I stick to it, lol, but I'm going start updating twice a week, once on Wednesdays and once on Saturdays. Otherwise I'll never get any work done! I'll just sit around writing all day. :P Without further ado, I present...

**NEW A/N**: So I'm ashamed to say that I forgot this story was meant to be in first person, so I'm sorry to everyone who enjoyed the change of POV, but the inconsistency was bugging me. I wrote a whole bunch that's coming later, which I have to switch too. :P But let me know if you spot anywhere where it's still in 3rd POV. Sorry about that! Hope the chapter's still okay! :)

Chapter 12: Breathe, See, Shake, Let it Go

It was everywhere.

The ultraviolet light illuminated the counter and splashes of iridescence were left all over the counter. I felt the nausea rise in me, and my hand planted itself over my mouth as the contents of my stomach threatened to expel themselves.

Everything got really dizzy and I leaned heavily against the mannequin behind me.

Sliding down to the floor I stared on in horror as the UV beam spilled onto the linoleum and revealed more and more spots of color that stood out vividly on the floor.

It was everywhere.

The tears came without warning and dripped down my face. I couldn't even summon the energy to wipe them away or to even really cry. I was frozen.

It was like the sounded had been dialed down suddenly, everything was numb, I could barely hear my own hitching breaths as I tried to maintain a calm. But the air didn't seem to be reaching my lungs; at least not quickly enough to permit me to regain my control.

For the first time in a very long time, I felt a despair and lack of hope so strong that it crippled me. I felt like I would never rise again; just sit here molding away until someone found me.

But who would look, everyone I loved was gone.

That thought brought on a fresh wave of tears and my head fell forward, my knees rising to catch it. And then for what seemed like an eternity, I sat, curled on the floor, arms wrapped tightly around my shivering body.

My mind shut down, refusing to process any more of the scene before me and I faded out.

A loud bang outside snapped me back to consciousness. Somehow, some way I had cried enough to pass out. Rubbing my eyes wearily I took a deep breath to ward off the panic as I took in the room around me. Switching off the UV light, I tucked it safely into my bag where for the moment it would do no more harm.

I looked behind me into the street. A small girl hurtled by, screaming in delight as a large golden retriever bounded after her. A frazzled looking woman hurried after the dog, his leash tied to her wrist. I felt a wave of longing at the sight but I quickly flipped my eyes back to the scene before me.

There was no use sitting here, I needed to find what I came for. Blood was expected, I told myself. It didn't mean anything; it just meant that I had to be even more careful. I stood shakily, blocking out the residual noise from the exterior and focusing on the task at hand.

Taking the light back out I took a deep breath, and just as I was about to flick it on, my phone went off loudly and I flinched at the disruption.

The purple rubber encased iPhone slipped easily out of my bag and I looked at the number in surprise. It was Jared.

I debated for a second and then tried out my voice. Feeling slightly foolish but realizing that I sounded nasally and sick, I pushed the call to voicemail. Whatever it was, if it was important he would leave a message.

I turned on the light.

Closing my eyes briefly to regain my strength, I chanted to myself that there was nothing I couldn't do.

It was something my father had always encouraged: blinding self-confidence. When I was younger, my parents had showered me with affection, their love instilling a sense of calm and resolve in me that was seldom deterred.

But as the years passed and I began attending public schools once my parents departed for the city and I no longer had the benefit of private tutoring, I found my peers difficult and unpredictable.

The security of sense in my home had been removed and at school where ideals and values were instilled not in intellect and comprehension but in flirtation and social interaction, I felt lost.

I never quite got my footing, feeling consistently like I was a few steps behind. But in art, in art I had ego. I was aware of my limitations and my skills and found a serenity and comfort that was absent in other areas of my life.

Here I reigned supreme.

Taking in a breath, I focused on the peace I had found earlier in sketching my models and used it to focus myself.

I lifted the light higher, until my hand was above my head, illuminating a sickeningly wide path of blood that began at the counter and trailed solidly back to the staff room.

The trail disappeared under the door.

But it was quiet now so it must be safe, I thought to myself.

I walked carefully and silently, my heels barely making a click on the floor. My mother had placed careful rubber soles on the bottom of all my stilettos to promote security in gait but they also had the marvelous ability to silence the normal clacking that followed when I walked

The door loomed before me, the crack beneath expelling no light which meant once I opened the door, I had no way of knowing what lay behind.

Taking a deep breath I took comfort in the stillness of the room, of the silence that remained behind me.

I opened the door.

But there was nothing to see. The light, which I flicked on with ease on the side of the wall behind me, revealed a room in perfect order.

There was nothing significant here. I wandered in, idly flicking the UV light over the room, but the blood trail stopped at the door.

I turned off the light and retraced my steps, and then realized my mistake.

The path that led to the staff room veered off at a tangent, a few steps earlier, I must have missed it.

It followed a slightly wavering path as if the person dragging her- I stopped there and dropped to my knees as a wave of nausea over came me. And then with muted horror I realized what I was kneeling on top of and scrambled back to my feet, desperately trying not to touch the floor.

The world tilted and for a second I wished that there were someone with me. Despairingly I thought of the warmth of Jared's touch, his solid, strong hands gripping my own with such lightness and support. I envisioned what it would be like if he were here, tucking me into his much more massive frame and keeping me steady.

A belligerent beep echoed from my phone, shattering my daydream.

A text.

I unlocked the phone with one hand while gingerly raising the light and following the trail of-the trail, just the trail back to the rear entrance of the store. Shining the light around me, I noted that this was the only other path.

Someone had taken my mother outside. But where did they go next?

I took a breath.

I looked down at the screen of my phone and read the message quickly.

Done with lunch, want to meet up? –J

My fingers typed back quickly.

Almost done, twenty minutes. –K

I was just about to send the message when my phone buzzed again. I saved me response and read the new one.

Kim, wanted to make sure everything was going okay today at Mark. Let me know if you need anything. –Cecilia

I typed back a quick affirmative before sending my response to Jared.

I moved the back door open and followed the trail again. My light shone on, out of the slightly shadowed alleyway and out to the street. There it stopped and the trail disappeared. I let out a disappointed sight. I hadn't expected to find anything concrete.

But my only lead was useless now. Who ever it was had loaded whatever was depositing blood in such copious amounts into a car. But that gave me hope.

You didn't put a dead body into a car, not one that was bleeding like this one was. That was too much evidence to remove.

You threw it into the dumpsters littering the alleyway behind me.

My mother was alive.

I knew it.

I ran back into the store, a sense of relief and purpose renewed within me with intense vigor.

There was hope. I had found it and I was not going to let it go so easily again.

I returned to the store and meticulously wandered around the counter to check if any money had been stolen but the register was locked and the drawer undamaged.

I pulled it open using a key from my bag but the cash inside looked undisturbed if not plentiful.

They weren't after money.

Which meant this was no random attack. My parents were squeaky clean though, my father's law firm handled divorce suits, nothing remotely criminal or tied to anything that merited this level of crime.

What did my parents know? What could they have seen that would provoke such an extreme reaction?

And then I noticed three things almost simultaneously.

The hand sanitizer bottle my mother always placed on the top of the counter had been knocked to the floor.

The rug I was standing on had been flipped over; the tag was visible.

And finally that the store had gone completely silent, which meant someone had closed the door.

Which meant that I was no longer alone.

A hand reached out and grabbed my shoulder.