Elaine could never throw away that dress, or the coat and belt that came with it. Maybe it had been from Descole for disguise purpose of for her to try and dress more formally as he put it, but she just didn't have the heart too. Her mother and cousin had suggested giving it to a charity shop of some kind. Her brother had suggested throwing it out or better yet (In his opinion) burning it. Elaine's father didn't give a direct opinion, though she suspected he might secretly have been supporting Philippe's idea.

But Elaine did neither. When she returned to her home in London, she put the dress on a hanger along with the coat and hung it on the door of her wardrobe. Maybe Descole's reasons for giving it to her were himself. But it was still a gift of sorts when you thought about it. A gift Elaine couldn't part with.

She missed her house. Her Georgian style, London townhouse. It might not have a garden to sit in or plant flowers, but it didn't bother Elaine. She just bought some flowers every now and then to put in the kitchen, living room or sometimes her bedroom. She was proud of the small decorations here and there. One or two knick-knacks Elaine thought would fit nicely into house, or slightly pricier ones, such as an art deco style painting in her study of a jazz orchestra.

There were of course a model of an artefact or two. They may not have been the real thing, it would as close as she could get to a genuine sabre-toothed cat tooth or papyrus scroll.

Comfort was what Elaine felt in the house. Comfort. Familiarity. That was what she needed now. That wasn't to say she didn't really feel that way back at her parents' house. It was just that this was her own home. Where she had lived the last several years. And it was good to be here again. No matter what. She had called Chappy a little while after coming home, and after confirming that it was her father who had spoken to him a while ago, agreed to see a therapist if it meant she could come back to work. It felt like a blow to her pride, but it meant going back to work, so who was she to complain? It only meant that she was on the right path to getting her life back on track, where it was before!

But, he still haunted her thoughts. Even if just on the edge. Descole.

Elaine couldn't understand completely why. But she had a good idea. It was her guilty conscience making her suffer for having a hand in Descole's death. It tore Elaine on how she wanted to feel. She wanted to tell herself that it wasn't her fault and to not feel any guilt. To pretend he never existed. But no. Her guilt did exist as had Descole and kept prodding her and prodding her.

Her appetite had waned to a point where it was starting to feel like a chore to eat bread rolls even, and had to force herself to eat so she wouldn't start starving and losing weight and cause people to ask questions. Her sleep was no better. She could barely sleep at night, but when she did, those dreams were far from pleasant.

Elaine was just walking through the woods. A scarlet cloak on her back. She raised an eyebrow at it. A bit 'Little Red Riding Hood', much? Being alone in the woods almost made her roll her eyes, though she did notice something peculiar. Where was her basket of goodies or medicine? Didn't Little Red usually have a basket with either or both in it to give to her grandmother?

Perhaps she had already gone there? It was the first thought in Elaine's mind, but that only led to the question of why she didn't have an empty basket.

With no other option, Elaine began to walk in the direction she was facing. It seemed like the way she was meant to go. It was quiet, dark. No sound except for hooting owls or night time creatures. She thought she saw a fox briefly.

Pit. Pat. Pit. Pat.

Elaine turned around. She had heard something behind her. But there was nothing. Elaine gave a weary look but continued her walk.

"I'm not scared. I'm not scare." Elaine muttered to herself. She repeated the mantra. It was all that came from her lips, non-stop.

"Oh, but I disagree my dear~." The chuckle that followed made Elaine feel chilly as she turned around. Descole came out of the woods. Wolf ears sticking out from his hat and a tail from under his cloak. It would have been a funny, maybe (In the words of those more brave) even cute, sight. But it was dark, and Descole was smiling, his teeth literally sharp as Elaine paled.

"C-cher Dieu…" Elaine murmured as she stepped back.

"Why so frightened, my darling Red?" He cooed, taking long steps towards her. "It's only dinner time after all~." Elaine's pupils shrunk, and for a moment she seemed almost statue-like as she froze. But common sense slapped her and she instantly turned around. Running as if the Devil was at her heals. It was a bit literal in this case considering how you looked at it.

Elaine could hear his laughter as the chase went on. She refused to scream. To yell out. That would only give her away if she managed to hide from him. She wasn't even sure if he was behind her now, but fear kept her from looking.

She only blinked when she suddenly hit into someone and fell down. Elaine looked behind her sharply but saw no sign of Descole.

"Are you alright miss?" Elaine looked up to see some sort of woodcutter. He seemed young. Maybe a little more than her. And he was kinda cute too.

"I… I got lost and I…"

"Don't worry. How about I help you out? I know the way." Before Elaine could respond, this stranger grabbed her arm and began leading her down the path. He looked cheerful, but Elaine still felt uneasy being so close to him.

Eventually, they made it too a cabin. It seemed familiar. Was it meant to be her grandmother's cabin? Elaine frowned. Why was she here? Still, she let the woodcutter lead her to the front door. Elaine gave three tentative knocks on it before speaking.

"Erm… It's me grandmother. Sorry for being late?" Elaine said in a questioning tone. But there was no response. Hesitant, Elaine slowly opened the door and looked in, only for her to take a sharp intake of breath.

Descole laid on the floor. Cut up and bloodied. The axe laid on the floor.

Elaine began to hyperventilate. How did this happen? Why?

"Tut, tut. Scared of your own handiwork?" Elaine turned around to the woodcutter, or rather Descole. He didn't have his mask on, but the shadows covered the part of his face where his mask usually was. He smirked at Elaine before tugging something out of Elaine's hand.

The bloody axe.

"'O-'ow…"

"I do apologise for what happens next, Hawthorne." Descole drawled. "But quite frankly, I do not like being betrayed in such a manner!"

"I… It was an… I didn't mean for you to…" Elaine backed away. Trying to come up with an explanation. She eventually stumbled and fell into a bloody puddle. Descole took sweet time approaching her before pausing, and then kneeling down to face her.

"Such a shame we part ways like this. But you have no one to blame but yourself." Elaine felt his lips pressed against her ones briefly. She tasted blood and when Descole pulled away she saw a thin trail of blood sliding down one corner of his mouth.

"Don't fret darling." He mockingly cooed as he stood up, raising the axe high. "It'll be over soon~."

Elaine had screamed she sat up quickly in her bed. Her heart was racing. Beads of sweat were on her forehead. Just a nightmare. Her conscience mocking and tormenting her. She looked to her bedside clock. Only two in the morning. Still time to get back to sleep before she would have to wake up later to return to work.

Descole would never have done such a thing. Would he? Elaine wasn't so sure now. She swallowed as she glanced towards the dress on her wardrobe door. Something about it seemed to laugh at her somehow. Easing herself back down on her bed. Elaine shut her eyes.

Her first mental note was to stop reading so much Stephen King before bed.

The second was to call an old college friend of hers'. Darcy hopefully still worked with death records. Maybe she could try and find who Lucy was.