Victoria Chase: how's your "pink eyes" going?

Max Caulfield: not getting any better :/

Victoria Chase: yeah, right…

Max Caulfield: something wrong?

Victoria Chase: I know the truth

Max Caulfield: what are you talking about? oO

Victoria Chase: bitch please, you're talking to a member of the Vortex Club, I've been in more parties than you can imagine

Max Caulfield: your point being?

Victoria Chase: I know the signs, that's all

Victoria Chase: at lunch you stuffed yourself like a pig at 2 Whales, then after class you wanted to have tea at Bean Hip and stuffed yourself again with muffins and cookies

Max Caulfield: I didnt stuff myself like a pig! :o

Victoria Chase: you had two burgers and three different desserts for lunch!

Victoria Chase: so, a severe case of the munchies plus a need to cover your eyes with shades, it figures: you found Chloe's weed stash and got real high last night

Max sighed with relief. For a second, she was afraid Victoria had somehow found out the actual truth! Better let her believe that instead…

Max Caulfield: oops

Max Caulfield: guilty as charged ^_^

Victoria Chase: my my, never thought there was such a party animal hiding behind shy quiet Max!

Victoria Chase: what are you, Crouching Hipster Hidden Pothead?

Max Caulfield: lol

Max Caulfield: just wanted 2 try and relax a bit ^^

Victoria Chase: not judging you

Victoria Chase: but you know there's still the Halloween party tomorrow, sure you don't wanna come? Now that you're starting to experiment living dangerously, why not go all the way?

"You kids and your phones," a disapproving voice sighed right next to her, startling her. She looked up to face Monsieur Lacroix.

"Shit," she gasped, then immediately apologized to her teacher: "Sorry, Monsieur, but could you please avoid that teleporting thing? It's really scary…"

The teacher scoffed: "I walked, Max. You were so busy texting you did not hear me coming."

"Yeah," she replied sheepishly, "I was, uh… talking to Victoria."

"Mademoiselle Chase? Did you tell her that you are now my assistant?"

"I did, this afternoon. She took it surprisingly well, I thought she'd be jealous but she said she was happy for me and that wasn't a job for her anyway, she likes high-tech cameras too much to be stuck in the Retro Zone, as she says. Kate wasn't too happy, though…"

"Oh really?" Monsieur Lacroix asked, surprised. "I never thought Mademoiselle Marsh would be the one to show jealousy…"

"That's not jealousy, just… don't know if I should tell you, but she doesn't like you very much. She thinks you're nice and all, but-"

"But she does not trust me," he finished. "She senses something in me that makes her skin crawl, even though she cannot tell exactly what it is…"

"Yes, that's it! How do you know?"

He shrugged: "I am used to it, people with strong religious beliefs are instinctively wary of us."

"The same way we're afraid of crosses? Wait, does that mean she'll be afraid of me after my, uh… transformation, or that I won't be able to come anywhere near her because of her necklace?"

"No, do not worry about this. Her dread is a purely instinctive response, and since she knows and trusts you already, I think she will be able to overlook it. As for crosses and other holy symbols, we have a natural aversion to those things, but we can tolerate them. Actually, these act more as a protection for the human holding them: we are truly, violently repelled only when we approach the holder with harmful intent."

"Oh, okay. And what about garlic?"

"I am sorry but no, we are allergic to garlic and there is absolutely no way around it."

This Max had found out the hard way: at lunch break she couldn't even enter the cafeteria, for the main course was garlic and cheese chicken and the repulsive smell of that cursed bulbous plant proved to be too much for her to handle. Which was why she'd taken her friends to Two Whales for an epic pigging-out session. After all, that was the last lunch she'd ever have in her entire life, so might as well make it worthwhile. And after class, a tea session that turned into another feast of pastries. And she'd insisted to pay for all, because after all, she'd soon no longer have any use for lunch money, so she could afford it. And she'd taken tons of selfies with her friends. The last selfies she'd ever take. It was during this tea-time that she told Kate and Victoria about becoming Lacroix's assistant and received Victoria's enthusiastic support and Kate's not-so-enthusiastic advices for caution. Now it was six, they had returned from the Bean Hip Café half an hour ago, the sun was setting, and she was meeting her teacher in a quiet spot behind the dorms, away from prying eyes, as they had agreed to earlier in the day.

"So how was your day?" he asked while lighting one of his favorite thin cigarettes.

"It was awesome!" she said with a big beaming smile. "I never felt so good in my entire life! Can I stay like this forever?"

He laughed: "Actually, you can, some people choose to stop the process at this stage and remain in an… 'enhanced human' form, so to speak, afraid of the downsides of being a full-on vampire. But trust me when I tell you that the power you get from finishing your transformation far outweighs these downsides."

"Yeah, I know, I was just dreaming about staying like this a few more days…"

"You can."

"No! No, I can't, Chloe's waiting for me, if I stall it could be too late for her, you told me we're on a clock."

"You have a couple spare days on this clock, you know."

"I know how I am, if I wait too long I'll get cold feet and stall and stall until it's too late, so no, let's do this now."

"As you wish," the vampire shrugged as he rolled back his right sleeve. "Just a word, though, before we continue: I heard you got into a fight with a classmate this morning…"

"Logan?" she giggled. "Yeah, I freaked out a bit, but now I've cooled off and have no regret giving that asshole what he deserves!"

"Perhaps he deserved this, but let me remind you to be careful with your abilities. You cannot go around showing your strength that openly. This will get people talking, wondering how this girl managed to subdue a boy twice her size. This will draw attention, and we certainly do not want that. We have to look like normal humans, this is key to our survival."

"You're right," she muttered while looking down in shame. "I won't do it again."

"I am not scolding you, Max, just warning you. You may get in trouble with your friends if they notice a sudden change of behavior."

"Uh…" she blushed. "That kind of already happened… Victoria thinks I'm a pothead and wants me to come to the Vortex Club Halloween party…"

This made Monsieur Lacroix burst out laughing. "Now this is quite funny! Better let her think so than find out the truth. So, are you going? When is it?"

"The party? It's tomorrow night, and no I have no intention to go!"

"Why not?"

"Because all the dumbest, most popular kids around will be there, drunk and stoned off their asses, dancing to super loud music… kind of my definition of Hell."

"A bunch of drunk, dumb kids in Halloween costumes? Kind of a vampire's definition of an all-you-can-drink buffet."

Max raised an eyebrow: "Are you telling me you crash on parties to feed?"

"How do you think I feed? Have you ever heard of vampire attacks on the streets at night? No, because I do not hunt on the streets. I go clubbing in Portland. I feed on willing people in the bathrooms and they just assume I am some weird vampire fetishist type. That is why I love the twenty-first century, everybody is allowed to be weird and nobody is surprised about anything anymore!"

"So, you're telling me I should go to that party?"

"Considering it is tomorrow night, when you will have become a bona fide vampire and will probably be starving for blood, I say yes. Besides, Halloween is the best day of the year for vampires. You can flash your teeth around and nobody bats an eye!"

Max pondered on his words for a moment, then, with a mischievous smile, she took out her phone and texted her answer:

Max Caulfield: u know what? Yolo, I'm coming

Victoria Chase: Awesome! It will be at the Old Mission tomorrow beginning at 8. Yeah, with the shit from last time we can't have parties on campus anymore, but you'll see, the Old Mission is perfect for a Halloween party. You better get a good costume!

"Done!" she said. "Tomorrow, I'm going to my first party!"

"Congratulations. By the way, have you done anything about…"

"The lair?"

He sighed: "I prefer 'haven' or 'safehouse'. Why do you kids have to be so sinister whenever vampires are involved? We are regular people, not all of us are creepy gothic types."

Max smirked and replied: "Says the guy who appeared in a cemetery in the dead of night with his army of rats and his mist, and who sleeps in a coffin in his cellar."

"I am a homosexual artist, making dramatic entrances is part of the job description! As for the coffin, you will sound find out that with our superior senses, this is the most comfortable way to sleep. So, how is your 'lair' going?"

"I know a place that could be perfect, just need the address. That's why I'm going to Joyce's tonight, to… fuck, I'm gonna be late for dinner!"

"Alright, let us proceed then, I do not wish you to be late for your last dinner."

On these words, the teacher bit his bare arm deep enough to make it bleed, then offered it to Max who stuck her lips on the wound and eagerly sucked the blood in deep sips. It was salty, tasted like copper. The night before, she'd thought it tasted awful. Now she was beginning to like it.

"Remember," Monsieur Lacroix said as he rolled down his sleeve once they were done, "tomorrow will be very hard for you, but you will have to soldier through the day, and keep in mind that tomorrow night is your third and last dose. Then-"

"I'll be a real vampire?"

"Yes. Now go, do not be late."

A few hours later, Max was slowly dozing off, completely stuffed on Joyce's delicious food, as she and Joyce and David were sitting on the couch, enjoying a family movie time together. She was fighting hard not to fall asleep. She couldn't. She had things to do tonight, and she had to wait till Joyce and David went to bed to set her plan in motion. But it was tough.

Fuck, why did I eat so much?

Because that's your last dinner ever, stupid, you wanted to get the most of it.

Yeah, I know. But I've been eating like a pig all day, my belly's so sore I think I'm done with food for the rest of my life anyway. Just need to stay awake a little longer…

Hold on, the movie's almost over.

After a few more minutes of struggle, the end credits rolled at last, and Joyce stretched and announced that she was going to bed. David told her he'd be up in a few minutes, so the woman kissed Max goodnight and went upstairs.

Shit, David's still up!

Max's mind started racing, looking for an excuse to sneak in the garage and do what had to be done. Her answer came as a providential phone call. She quickly stood up, answered, and started drifting off the lobby as she spoke:

"Hello?"

"Max?" a female voice said. "It's Courtney, hope you weren't sleeping?"

Courtney? What the fuck does she want?

"Na, not yet. What's up?"

"Max, we need to talk."

She sounds serious as shit, what's going on?

"Uh, okay… anything wrong?"

"Vicky told me you're coming to the party tomorrow?"

"Well, yeah, so…"

"So I'm calling to make sure you understand what this entails. This is a Vortex Club party. Serious business, and I don't want you to ruin the mood with your typical Lamefield fashion sense, you got me?"

"Not quite, you don't want me to come?"

"I don't mind you coming, I just don't want you to come with a lame costume. So I'm calling you to offer my services. Come to my room tomorrow after class and we'll work on a total makeover. You'll look hot as fuck, believe me!"

"Oh, well, thanks Courtney, but there's no need for it, don't worry. I got my costume already."

"You do? In so little time? Oh God, please tell me it's not a ghost. I wouldn't survive seeing you in a blanket with two holes for eyes…"

This made Max chuckle: "Don't worry, it's not a ghost. It's actually pretty cool. I started looking after I told Tori I was coming, I ordered it online, just need to go pick it up tomorrow."

"Okay… so what is it?"

"That would be telling."

"Come on, Max!" the other girl whined. "The suspense is killing me!"

"Nuh-uh, you have to wait till tomorrow!"

Courtney sighed: "Okay, I hope you know what you're doing."

"Don't worry. See ya tomorrow?"

"Sure. Bye, Max!"

"Bye."

After hanging up, Max realized she had drifted off all the way to the garage. Exactly where she had to be. She stood still for a second, making sure David wasn't coming, but the sound of the television through the wall seemed to indicate he was watching the sports channel and had no intention of moving. Good. She quickly went to his laptop, which was on top of a chest of cupboards that he used as a workstation. There were other wall-mounted cupboards overhead. On one door, he had taped a picture of Chloe, and another of Kate.

Why does he have a picture of Kate?

She turned on the computer. To her greatest relief, it wasn't locked. Surprising, he had put it in sleep mode instead of turning it off, so it had remained unlocked. But he'd been so depressed since Chloe died, no wonder he was getting sloppy. Quickly, she began browsing his email, searching for any clue that could help her. One of the most recent emails caught her eyes. It was from a law firm.

Uh-oh…

She opened it and started reading:

Dear Mr Madsen,

We are contacting you to invite you to kindly reconsider our offer. Please be assured that we fully sympathize with your tragic loss and offer all our condolences, however, as a father, you will surely understand that Mr Prescott will not allow his son's honor to be tainted by unprovable accusations.

Nathan Prescott has consistently been one of the top students at Blackwell Academy, and proudly represents one of Oregon's finest families. Your daughter, on the other hand, was expelled from this very academy and already had a rather thick police record for a girl her age. Since there is no evidence showing that Nathan did indeed own the gun that you discovered in the bathroom, it will not be easy to challenge his testimony, namely that the gun was your daughter's and he was merely defending himself when she threatened him with it after trespassing on campus, when this regrettable tragedy happened.

We are aware of the testimony of Miss Maxine Caulfield, who claimed she was present on the scene. However, given Miss Caulfield's closeness to your daughter and your wife, the objectivity of her testimony will be easily challenged.

Dear Mr Madsen, we believe that the offer for settlement made by Mr Prescott is a most generous one and we highly encourage you to accept it. Should you decide to go to court, please let us remind you that a legal prosecution is a very expensive endeavor, and we believe you already have enough financial difficulties as it is. Moreover, it is in your interest to remember that your current employer, Blackwell Academy, is largely funded by Mr Prescott's generous donations, and should said donations cease, budget cuts might force the Academy to reconsider its employment practices.

We remain at your disposal should you have any questions or concerns.

Yours truly,

Cowan, Swain & Ross
Attorneys at Law

Man, this is fucked up! I knew they were trying to put all the blame on Jeffershit for the Dark Room and Rachel, but now they're trying to clear Nathan of Chloe's murder by pretending she was the one threatening him? Don't they have any morals?

As an eyewitness, Max had of course been asked to testify, and had of course provided a faithful account of what she'd seen, but apparently, being Chloe's childhood friend worked against her here. Dammit! She browsed David's outbound box to see if he had replied, and was most pleased to see he had taken upon himself to introduce these lawyers to the concepts of family and loyalty in a lengthy mail that could be summed up as a huge middle finger. She grinned. Way to go, David!

She browsed some more and found an email that seemed closer to what she was looking for. It came from the Arcadia Bay Police Department and was sent the day after Chloe's death:

David,

First of all, I want to tell you that I and all the guys here at the station house are 100 % behind you, and we're here if you or Joyce need anything. As you know, Chloe was a regular visitor here, and not for good reasons, but she was a good kid with her heart in the right place.

Now, I thought it fair to give you an update on how the investigation is going: Nathan Prescott spilled the bean, and man it's heavy stuff. You may want to sit down before reading what's next.

So it appears that the Prescott kid has a thing for drugging girls, tying them up and taking pictures of them. Chloe somehow became aware of his secret little hobby and tried to blackmail him, they were supposed to meet up in the bathroom yesterday for her to get paid when things escalated and, well, you know what happened. And now this is where things get incredible: you know that self-important hipster star photographer who now teaches at Blackwell, Mark Jefferson? Guy who always acts like he's doing us all Arcadia Bay hicks a favor just being here? Turns out that pervy photo project was his idea all along, and Nathan was just his accomplice! Of course we didn't believe a word of this, until he gave us the mother of all evidence : a Prescott-owned bomb shelter under a barn, outside of town, that the two of them had outfitted as a photography studio and used as their secret lair they called the Dark Room! All the evidence was there: pictures, invoices for hardware, emails, everything that could possibly prove Jefferson was the one taking these pictures and making big bucks selling them on the DarkNet.

I guess I and all the guys owe you an apology here. You tried to warn us several times that you suspected drug problems on campus, and we laughed at your heavy-handed investigation style, following everyone around and taking pictures like you're in a bad Bogart movie, but it turned out you were right, and moreover, the location of that Dark Room matches one of the sets of coordinates you gave us. Good job on this one. But man, I've never seen anything creepier in my entire career! All these photos of tied up girls were stored neatly in individual binders with their names on it, it looks like he started doing this back when he lived in Seattle in the 90s! I'm sorry to tell you that the most recent ones are Blackwell students, I cannot reveal their names right now as the investigation is just beginning and we'll have to question them later on, but we'll work with you when that time comes to make sure this goes as smoothly as possible. The only name I can reveal is Rachel Amber. Yes, the one who disappeared six months ago, I believe she and Chloe were friends? Nathan claims Jefferson overdosed her, and buried her body in the junkyard. I'm sorry.

I guess you'll run into Branagh and Flanagan pretty soon, because they're on their way to arrest Jefferson as I write. Hell, maybe by the time you read this, he'll be behind bars already! We're keeping Nathan here for the time being, his lawyers are giving us a hard time as you can guess. We wanted to bring Sean Prescott here to question him about that Dark Room, but his legal team already had a written statement claiming he didn't have any knowledge of it, a number of those bomb shelters were built by his grandfather in the 40s and forgotten, and it's quite likely Jefferson bullied Nathan into giving him access to that shelter without his father knowing. I don't believe a word of it myself, but how can we prove it, right? To think I used to look over Nathan personally as a favor to his old man… I'm disgusted with myself.

I'll keep you in touch if there's any news. In the meantime, don't forget, the whole station's behind you and Joyce in this ordeal.

Best,

Anderson Berry

So this is what I've been looking for! But where is that Dark Room? Under a barn? Couldn't you be more specific, Officer Berry? And what about those coordinates? David knows where it is? I have to find out!

She browsed for another email. This one was from Officer Berry again, sent only a couple days ago:

David,

I don't know how to say it, I'm still in shock myself. Yes, that's bad news, I'm sorry.

The investigation is at a dead end. We thought it would be a piece of cake, what with Nathan's confession and all the evidence, but the Prescott lawyers managed to convince the kids to change his statement. Now he puts absolutely all the blame on Jefferson, he was just another one of his victims, a fragile kid threatened and manipulated into doing things against his will. Thing is, he actually does have psychiatric issues, we found out he takes prescription pills, so the "fragile kid" defense holds up. As for Chloe, well now he claims she was the one with the gun, and he was defending himself from her when the shot was fired! Can you believe that! Everybody knows Chloe believed in gun control, we've all heard her rant to no end about your "stupid gun fetish mancave"! But these lawyers are something else, they're confident they can sway a jury their way without breaking a sweat. Of course we told them about that girl's testimony, Maxine Caulfield, but when they found out she was Chloe's childhood friend, they laughed and said there was no way she'd been taken seriously as an objective witness. And you know what they said when we told them he confessed in the first place? That we'd bullied a false confession out of a traumatized kid and they should sue us for police brutality!

I'm sorry, David, we're doing everything we can, but Prescott, he's powerful man. Jefferson's toast for sure, but Nathan, so far he's in the psych ward, officially to "recover from these deeply traumatic events", and there's a chance he'll get away with it. I wish I could do more. Damn, sometimes I wish I could deal with that myself, in a dark alley… but I'm a cop, gotta obey the rules.

I'll keep you posted. Stay strong.

Anderson Berry

Holy shit, Chloe'll be so pissed about it when she comes back!

Despite her shock and indignation, Max couldn't help but feel warm in the pit of her belly at this thought: when she comes back.

She heard and smelled David approaching before he opened the door. Quickly, she shut down the laptop and stepped away from it, trying to look inconspicuous.

"Oh, hey David," she greeted him with an absolutely neutral, I-wasn't-doing-anything-special voice.

"Hey kiddo," he replied, his eyebrow raised. "You stayed long in there, I was wondering what you were up to?"

"Oh, uh, nothing, just…"

Quick, find something!

She set her eyes on the gun rack in a corner.

Perfect.

"I was looking at your collection!"

"Oh, this," he said in a sigh while casting a sad look at his precious guns. "Yeah, I hoard guns for protection, and I couldn't even protect one of the two most important people in my life…"

He sat down on a stool, looking like he was bearing all the weight of the world on his shoulders.

"Are you okay, David?"

"Max… can I talk to you openly?"

The girl was taken aback. "Uh… yeah, of course."

He nodded: "You were Chloe's best friend, when you were kids… I know her father's death was a hard blow on her, and on your friendship… I tried to help her, be there for her, like any d… stepdad would do. I always wanted to have kids but never got the chance, what with my career in the marines… then I met Joyce, and suddenly I found myself in charge of a pissed-off sixteen-year-old girl with a serious intolerance to any form of authority! I loved her, you know, I really did. I just didn't know how to handle an angry, grieving teenager, so I tried what I knew best: military discipline. Which was, of course, a disaster. Several times, I lost my nerves. I… hit her a couple times."

He paused upon seeing Max's shocked look, eyes wide and mouth agap. He nodded at her and continued:

"I know this makes me sound like a monster, and it's probably well deserved. Joyce knows, of course, I told her not too long after the… the funeral…"

His voice broke at this word, and tears started flowing down his cheeks, which he struggled to swallow back.

"There's no words to say how sorry I am, and to think I'll never get to tell her in person! I keep telling myself that if I'd been a better man… a better father… none of this would've happened."

"David…" Max tried to speak but her voice broke, deeply moved as she was by David's confession. He raised his hand at her and shook his head to let her know it was okay, she didn't need to say anything.

"Don't worry," he said. "I'm good, I… don't even know why I'm telling you all this, I guess I just needed to let it all out."

He stood up and walked in her direction, then stopped in front of the cupboard door where he'd stuck the pictures of Chloe and Kate.

"Do you know why I keep this picture of Chloe here, next to a picture of Kate?"

Max shook her head.

"Just a reminder of what a fuck-up I've been, pardon my language. Chloe because I couldn't protect her and be a good father to her. Kate as a tribute to my great detective skills."

"Detective skills?"

"Yeah… she… well, I've suspected for a long time that there was a drug problem on campus, and I wanted so hard to get to the bottom of it, I started to suspect absolutely everyone. You know, I'm getting therapy now, and I discovered I have PTSD, from my time in Afghanistan. One of the symptoms is acute bouts of paranoia… I believe this explains my sudden obsession with Kate being part of the drug ring."

"Kate a dealer?" the idea was so ludicrous to Max's ear that she had to refrain from laughing at it. David saw it, and couldn't help but chuckle himself as he replied:

"Pathetic, isn't it? Several times I bullied the poor girl into telling me everything she knew, never for a second suspecting what she was actually going through… what an idiot…"

"David, I don't think you should keep beating yourself up over this while looking at her picture… did you talk to her?"

"I did, and she forgave me, but then again, it's Kate Marsh we're talking about, girl is a saint. I was just so stupid back then, keeping files on every student as if everyone was involved…"

"Files?"

"Files, yes. With pictures, observation notes, track records of everyone's out-of-campus movements, complete with GPS coordinates."

"Wait, when you say everyone, do you mean…"

"Yeah," he answered sheepishly, "you too. But that's a thing of the past, be assured of that," he quickly added upon seeing her shocked face. "I gave my relevant files to the police for their investigation, the rest I burned. You know, funny thing is, I realized when Nathan spilled it out that I knew all along where the Dark Room was, for I'd followed him there and written down the coordinates. I just didn't know what it was back then, just thought it was some old barn he used to meet his dealer…"

Max's heart skipped a beat. Keep him talking!

"An old barn?" she asked innocently.

"Yes, that bunker photo studio was hidden under an old barn down Matheson Road, just outside of town. If I had known, back then…"

Yes!

"David… if I had known all the things I know now, things would be a lot different. If I had known what would happen in that bathroom, I'd have left class ten minutes earlier to grab Chloe and talk her out of it. Hell, if I had known how bad Chloe was feeling, I wouldn't have ghosted her for five years, my anxiety be damned, and none of this would have ever happened. But we can't rewind time. All we can do is move on and fix what we can still fix… least that's what my therapist said. But I promise, David, things will get better eventually."

He nodded slowly, and shed a single tear. "I guess. Thank you, Max. And sorry, I guess it doesn't do you any good listening to the ramblings of a bitter old man. It's just… I'd give everything I have to bring her back."

"Don't worry, David. Me too."

And you've just helped me in this. I promise, David, I can fix this. I can make it all better.

He patted her on the shoulder, then started walking toward the door, claiming it was time to get some shuteye now.

"David?" she called out on a sudden impulse. Just at this moment, she knew. She knew why they had this conversation, what was going on in David's mind. The man wanted absolution from Chloe, but he couldn't have it. So he turned to her childhood friend, the closest person to her he could find.

Surprised, he stopped and turned to her. She walked to him and gave him a tight hug, burying her head in his chest.

"She would've forgiven you," she whispered softly. "I know she would."

With a trembling hand, he stroked her hair and whispered a word of gratitude.

The freezing cold and wet awoke Max, and she opened her eyes to find herself lying in a puddle of icy water. Disoriented, she sat up and looked around. Where was she? What was going on? She'd gone to bed in Chloe's room, and now she was… had she sleepwalked or something? And why was it so windy? She was in a sort of forest, surrounded by trees that danced threateningly in the strong wind. The sky was dark, covered by thick, red clouds, and it was raining, oh God it was raining! Each raindrop was like a tiny spear threatening to tear at her skin, and the girl quickly rose and went to hide beneath a tree to protect herself from the downpour.

Is this the end of the fucking world?

She was shivering, frozen like never before, and the sound of the wind and rain was deafening.

Okay, calm down, Max, think! First try to see where you are.

She looked around, and the first thing she noticed was that the damp soil and the raindrops were as red as the clouds. Was that some sort of strange lighting effect? She raised her hand to examine the water on it, and she gasped in horror when she realized the liquid on her hand was thicker than water, it was viscous, and a deep crimson…

Is this blood?

Disgusted, she rubbed her hand on the trunk, and then her other hand, but she soon saw how futile that was, for her hair, her clothes, her whole body was drenched in the liquid. It was, literally, raining blood.

This must be a nightmare, there's no other way…

A loud, deep cracking sound resonated behind her, and she startled and barely had time to run to safety before the tree that sheltered her broke and collapsed with a bang louder than the wind.

Shit, this is getting dangerous in here! Must find my way out…

She made out a path, leading up, so that had to mean she was standing on some sort of hillside. She looked up, her eyes following the path to the top of the hill, and…

The lighthouse! I know where I am now, should be safe in there!

Hugging herself, she started treading her way to the top of the hill, crying under the relentless assaults of the elements, falling several times in deep puddles of fresh crimson blood that made her increasingly nauseous. Eventually, she reached the lighthouse that still stood strong against the storm, a promise of safety. Breathless and miserable, she leaned against its stone wall and after catching her breath, she looked toward the Bay.

Holy shit!

Her body threatened to give way at the horror that stood before her. In the middle of the Bay stood the biggest tornado she had ever seen. Okay, she had never actually seen a tornado herself, but still. This monster was like a huge, deep red maw making its way slowly, unrelentingly, toward the harbor and the town of Arcadia Bay, which in that distance looked as small and vulnerable as a cardboard model city. The eldritch abomination was drawing in cars and roof tiles and boats as it moved toward the town, seemingly getting bigger with each new satellite in its orbit. Max couldn't do anything but stand there and watch in absolute terror the impending destruction of her hometown. Among the debris gravitating around the humungous funnel, there was a small fishing boat flying in a wide orbit. The girl noticed only too late that this boat was leaving orbit and was being propelled like a slingshot in her direction. It crashed into the lighthouse with an earth-shattering roar, and Max, her legs finally giving way, fell to her knees and raised her arms in a pathetic defensive attempt as the top of the tower collapsed and fell right on top of her.

She awoke with a gasp and before she knew it, she had jumped out of Chloe's bed, run out of her bedroom and straight into the toilets where she barfed all the content of her stomach. When she returned to her full senses, she was kneeling before the bowl, panting, contemplating her vomit. Well, at least it looked like regular puke, no blood or anything like this. She sighed with relief. A nightmare, just a nightmare. But one like she'd never had before. What the hell was that?