She watched her from the doorway, quiet and unsure but hopeful. hopeful that last night hadn’t been a dream. Hopeful that after years of longing,of wishing and wanting, that she hadn’t finally lost her damned mind and hallucinated the best damn moment of her life. The moment in which her best friend and quite possibly the love of her life, had pulled her close and planted a tender kiss upon her lips. A kiss with meaning. A kiss of possibilities. moreover, a kiss that seemed to have been cherished, and not entirely on her part alone.

But could she trust herself? trust in her own mind and recollection? it had been they’re friend Sarah’s wedding last night after all, and they had both had had a few drinks at the reception that followed. Not many she thought, but still, could it have been enough to impair Henrietta’s judgment? could it have lowered her inhibitions enough to-

“You’re thinking too loudly.”

Andrea’s gaze snapped up from where it had lowered to the ground, catching a glimpse of blue as the brunette glanced over her shoulder at the hesitant blonde from where she stood, leant against the guard rail of the hotels balcony, a coffee in hand and a smile upon her lips. And she was perfect, bedhead and all, and Andrea couldn’t help but stare. Only snapping out of it when she noticed that the gentle quirk of lips had tipped up into something softly amused.

Andrea blushed.

And Henrietta’s smile morphed back into something infinitely fond.

“Get over here Blondie, i’m cold.”

Henrietta was never cold.

Her heart skipped a beat.

And then another.

Then it even doubt into a full on sprint.

Gathering up her courage, she took a tentative step forward, then another and another, until she stood directly behind the brunette. Her bravery abandoning her suddenly as she realized she didn’t know what to do with her hands. should she touch her? Was it allowed? This was a new and terrifying progression in their relationship and she didn’t know where Henrietta’s boundaries lay. And she wasn’t –

Once more, Henrietta effortlessly broke Andrea free from her anxious thoughts, as she took the lead.

Posture straightening, the brunette turned back to the horizon, arms seeming to absently open in invitation. An invitation that Andrea eagerly stole as she took the final step up behind Henrietta and slid her arms around the shorter woman’s waist, her chin hooking over a slender shoulder. Henrietta snuggling back into the embrace without pause, as a possessive hand came up to rest upon Andrea‘s crossed arms.

And it was new.

And it was wonderful.

And Andrea had a lot of insecurities.

But that was OK because Henrietta had an equal amount of patients and time.

And in that moment, no matter where this new adventure took them whether it be forever or end up in heartbreak: she thought that she might finally be home.

When fear turns to hatred then obsession, a group of childhood bullies must fight for both their sanity and their lives when those they victimized in their youth, come back into their lives with only one purpose. Revenge. A revenge set off by a seemingly innocuous note left upon Claire Blanchard’s kitchen table leaving this former mean girl with two pressing questions. One, how did someone get inside her house when she lives alone. And two, should she believe the note. especially since it claims that she only has 24 hours to run and hide

“ what’s the matter, Claire-Bear? I recall you being good at Hide and Seek?

She wants to know his secret. He hasn’t decided what it is yet. Casper Shaw is a man of 1000 faces, 1000 secrets and 1000 lies. He’s a man of deceit, of treachery, but above all else, he’s a man who serves himself. only himself. And as a renowned thief amongst the criminal underworld, Casper lives a life of luxury and adventure. he needs no one and no one needs him. That is, until he meets her. Gina Thomas. The only daughter of a small town florist, Gina is the most genuine woman he has ever met. clumsy and honest to a fault, there is no true reason why the brown eyed girl should have caught his attention but she has. and as time passes, as he gets to know her, things begin to become difficult when Gina begins to ask more and more pressing questions. namely, who Casper Shaw really is.

There is only one problem, he isn’t quite sure himself.

“So, who’s going to die today?”

Pausing at the all to familiar question, the personification of Death glanced up from its laptop to meet its younger brothers gays. Or rather, it’s younger sister it seemed. Evidently, War had gotten tired of the musclebound Loughead appearance she had been thundering around in not two minutes ago. Choosing instead to manifest as an Amazonian Warrior of alt. An Amazonian Warrior of all that apparently toted around a very much modern day gun. A very much modern day gun that was now expertly pointed towards her older siblings head.

Death rolled its eyes.

Apparently, it’s siblings were bored today.

Turning back to its emails, Death lifted a hand and waved it at War in a shoeing gesture; hoping and vain that its sibling would get the hint without it having to magic the menace away.

The gun was cocked

Death side, the hand that had been shoeing its sister away, effortlessly turning into a well practiced snap as it summoned its magic.

With a plume of purple smoke, War vanished with a splutter.

And with a bang, Death expertly tilted out of the way of the bullet that had been fired its way before its sister had disappeared.

It sighed, while it could logically understand why its siblings were so bored, what with them effectively being grounded until the apocalypse began; It couldn’t understand why they decided to take out their boredom on Death itself.

It’s not like it wass Death’s fault they had been caged in the first place.

That had been all on Pestilence and Famine.

And sure, War had egg them on, but in the end, it had been Pestilence and Famine to summon the asteroid that had hit earth.

Which, not that they had cared, had made a butt load of extra work for Death in the aftermath.

Which was also a shame, because Death had really liked the dinosaurs.

Shaking its head , Death got back to work.

A young girl of seven years, perched on her knees upon the sidewalk in front of her childhood home, had a thought. Not a very important thought, but a thought nonetheless. One that left her bewildered. and when she was confused, well, there was only one thing she could do.

She asked her sister.

“Maddie?” Maya Rose prompted quietly, absently rolling a toy car between her hands. not wanting to startle her older sister of two years, from the chalk drawing she had been focusing on intently for the last 10 minutes.

Maddie ignored her.

Fidgeting, a hand going up to absently tug at her braid, Maya tried again.

“Maddie.”

Still focused on her drawing, the older girls side.

“What?”

Again, Maya fidgeted, shifting on her knees, as she set the toy car aside. Classping her hands together in her lap, she wiggled nervouslyOnce more. after which, wanting her sister’s full attention, she tried to be a bit firmer.

“Maddie, I have a question.”

Seeming to realize that she wouldn’t be able to focus solely on her latest masterpiece, without first answering her sister‘s question. Maddie set down her chock with a dramatic flourish, making a point to exaggerate a long suffering sigh as she met her younger sisters eyes.

“ OK, Maya. What’s your question?”

With a grin, the younger sister scooted forward on her knees, mindful of her older sisters art.

“You know how they say if you step on a crack you’ll break your mama’s back?”

Maddie shot her an incredulous look before answering.

”yes…?”

Maya squirmed a bit more, eager to finally get her question answered.

“ What if you have two dads like we do? does that mean it doesn’t affect us? are daddy and Papa safe?”

Maddie’s brain stalled.

Out of all the questions, she thought her sister might ask, she hadn’t been prepared for that one.

Staring at her younger sister blankly, the older one finally spoke with a thoughtful air.

“I’m not entirely sure…”

Maya frowned, then perked up after a moment.

“I’ll just ask daddy!”

And, with the spring to her step, Maya Rose got to her feet and trotted into their house.

If Maddie didn’t know, her dads definitely would

Anne-Marie Willis was dying.

Sat up Ride in bed, lent against a pile of strategically placed pillows,an old woman slowly paged through a scrapbook done up with obvious Care. Absently flipping over each page with equal reverence, Anne-Marie let her mind wander down the lanes of memories long since past. never more proud of the life that she had lived, more so now, now that she knew her time was almost up. She had had a good life. Sure, there had been ups and downs, but overall, Her life had been wonderful. blessed as she was with five wonderful children, a lap full of grandchildren, and a great grandson on the way, she couldn’t have asked for more.

Had it really been 50 years?

Aged eyes caught on one photo in particular, one of the few she hadn’t been able to bring herself to get rid of. it was old. One of the oldest in the book. Depicting a man of average build with dark brown hair, even darker eyes and a squared jaw.. he was sat on a porch swing long since thrown out, with her eldest daughter sat upon his lap. Louisa had been to in the photo, looking every bit like her daddy, and both looked happy. they had been happy, she had known that for certain, and she had been just as certain that that was the last happy day they would have as a family.

**Anne-Marie had been 16 when she’d first met Arthur Mitchell. A strong, 22-year-old boy from out of town, hired to help work her daddy‘s farm. He had been charming, far to charming, and she had been oh so young. naïve. willing to eat up the pretty words of a handsome man that seemed interested in her. **Interested in the Quiet, socially awkward girl that she had been. No one noticed her, except for him, and the had made her an easy target. Of course she hadn’t thought of it that way in the beginning.

In the beginning they had been happy.

In the beginning, they had been in love.

At least she had.

at least before they’d been wed.

They were married two weeks after her 18th birthday, and it hadn’t even been been another two when he had first shown his true colors. Arthur had been a drunk. A mean one at that, and not opposed to using his fists when words failed him. which they often did. Frequently leaving holes in the walls of their small home, the doors off their hinges, and many of their meager possession smashed. The only good to come out of it being that, in the early days when he had come home drunk, he hadn’t once hit her.

That was, up until their second daughter had been born.

Arthur had wanted a son and when Deborah had been born, he had seen it as a betrayal on Anne-Marie‘s part. like she had purposely given him a second daughter to spite him. like she had ruined his life. Like she had stolen aweigh his dream of having the chance to raise a boy to grow up to be just like him. Like she had stolen away his chance at a legacy. not that there had been much of a legacy to give in the first place.

The first time he had hit her, it had been the day after she had gotten home from the hospital after giving birth to their youngest. it had blindsided her, coming out of nowhere, and leaving her sprawled on the ground. She had gone into shock, the only thing running through her mind besides the question of what just happened, being that she was grateful that she had already put the girls down for the night. That Louisa didn’t have to see her daddy punching her mommy in the face. That she didn’t have to explain things to her inquisitive toddler for the time being. After all, how could she explain it to a toddler, when she couldn’t explain it to herself. Especially since Arthur hadn’t been forthcoming, leaving her on the floor, grunting that he would be out for the night and not to wait up. she didn’t. Choosing to lock herself up tight in her daughters room., As she tried to figure out what to do next.

When Arthur came back, things were different.

He wasn’t hitting walls anymore.

And she had developed an appreciation for make up.

Anne-Marie Often times wonders how long she would’ve remained a battered wife had it not been for her brother, Joshua, quickly coming to the realization that something was different between the two. which was a feet in itself, due to Arthur having long since isolated her away from her family. A slow but effective manipulation tactic that had left her unable to see or talk to her family for long stretches of time. Only ever seeing her family, when Arthur had been willing to take her and the girls into town. Not for lack of trying on her brothers and parents part. it had just been a difficult. situation back then, or at least, that’s what she told herself. things were hard now, but they would get better.

they had too.

And they would.

Because Joshua was eagle eyed.

Because Joshua had seen the bruises.

Because Joshua had told their daddy and their elder brothers.

Because they had had a plan.

It was common knowledge in there Small town that her husband often went on Benders, leaving her and their young daughters at home for days at a time. so when Arthur Mitchell had come up missing, no one had put much stock into it. automatically assuming that. sour face man had finally done it, had finally abandoned his small family and gotten the hell out of town. some assumed that he had a mistress. in the city over. Some assumed it was drugs. Others assumed he was running from the law. But no one could’ve guessed what really happened.

Or maybe they could have, had they known.

It had been a cold November night, the night, Arthur Mitchell had been killed. And it hadn’t actually been her brothers to do the deed. It had been Anne-Marie herself. Anne-Marie who had been pushed past the breaking point after her husband had forced himself upon her. Anne-Marie who had gotten the gun. Who had pressed the muzzle of the 12 gauge to the temple of her pasdout husband and had pulled the trigger. And it was a paled faced Anne-Marie who’d opened the door to the small home, when there had been harsh, knocking upon it at midnight. Her eyes wide as she took in the site of her three brothers and their daddy. All of which held weapons at the ready. All of which were more than prepared to kidnap her and her daughters from their home while they did the deed. All of which hugged her with grim satisfaction when she had confessed to them of what she had done, all the while sobbing into her daddy’s chest

Arthur Mitchell had been buried in an unmarked grave. an unmarked grave that. resided in the woods that populated part of her familiesland. an unmarked grave that was often thought about, but never spoken of.

It would take a month for Louisa to stop asking about her daddy.

It would take barely a year for the town to forget about him.

It would be within two years that Anne-Marie would meet the true love of her life.

A year after that they would be married.

And two years after that, she would birth him a son.

And then another and another.

Anne-Marie Had never told her Jackson of what had happened to her first husband. Never felt that she needed to. But now, as she feels her body begin to fail her, she feels that it’s finally time to unburden her sins. Unfair as it might be to him, realizing that he spent the last 50 years married to a killer. she hopes ardently that he’ll understand. that he’ll at least tolerate her if he cannot accept her for what and who she is.

Anne-Marie closed the scrapbook.

Later that night, when she spills her secrets to Jackson, he replies with two words.

“I know.”

It started as all bad days due at the worlds most haunted hotel, and that was with yet another so called skeptic - whom swore up and down that he would be able to spend the entire night in the worlds most haunted hotel suite without experiencing a single paranormal event – having a psychotic break; thereby forcing the worlds most overworked hotel manager into having to call emergency services yet again. Which would mean another call to their families. families who would want monetary compensation. which was really starting to get on the manager’s nerves. after all, what did they expect? it wasn’t like they didn’t know what they were getting into. The fact that the suite had demons wasn’t once hidden, in fact, it was promoted, it wasn’t their fault that the skeptics didn’t believe them. Hell, everyone who requested that room was forced to sign a waiver, a aiver that laid everything out in black-and-white. They were literally told that the chances of them having a mental breakdown was near guaranteed and still they came.

Idiots.

Jolene Howard, a woman of slim build and red hair, stormed into her managerial office once she had seen the latest ambulance off. Immediately going towards her complementary liquor cabinet. It had come with the job. And grab the first bottle her gaze landed upon. it was whiskey. Forgoing the glass, she turned to her desk and pulled out the overly comfortable computer chair,and heavily sat down upon it with an equally as heavy sigh. Opening the bottle, she took a swig before addressing the empty room.

“ OK you little bastards, you can come out now.”

Nothing happened.

Jolene took another swig, her fingers tapping against the desk as she waited patiently. Not so patiently. Only managing another 20 seconds of silence before slamming her bottle down and getting to her feet once more. Resting her hands a top of the desk, she leaned forward and repeated in a stern voice boardering on a growl.

“ Get. Out. Here. Now.” another moment past.

Then, almost sheepishly - if you could call puffs of smoke sheepish - approximately a dozen puffs of said smoke began to manifest in a small cluster before her desk. The smoke quickly vanishing after it appeared, revealing in its wake, approximately a dozen bashful looking imps. Each of the little hell spawns either holding a pitchfork or a skull maraca- since when did they have musical instruments? - and wearing clothes. that ranged from tattered Togas to equally as tattered loincloths. All except for one, the leader, whom wore a sensible pair of khakis and a blood red polo shirt.

it was him that Jolene focused on.

“ What happened, Reginald?”

Reginald’s gaze darted away, yellow eyes focused on anything and everything that wasn’t the angry redhead in front of him. Tapping his fingers together nervously, his jaw worked in silent contemplation before his mouth opened and he attempted to answer.

jolene cut him off with a raised hand.

“ Wait, wait, wait. There’s meant to be 13 of you and I’m only counting 12…”

Reginald gave an anxious squeak, his hands wringing together even more furiously as he shifted from foot to foot. Taking another deep breath, he tried to speak again.

And again, the redhead cut him off.

“ Stephen! That’s whose missing! Where is Steven?”

It was with those words that the world’s most overworked hotel manager Came to an abrupt realization and froze. Taking a cleansing breath, jolene barely managed to grit out through clenched teeth.

“ Please tell me, that Stephen isn’t possessing that poor man.“

Reginald looked away.

Fuck! She had to call the local exorcists now too.

Today sucked.

“ I need to confess something, I did it. Now, can you pass the wine.”

Lucinda paused mid chew, hand already halfway to grabbing the requested beverage when her Brain finally caught up to what she had heard. Every instinct going on high alert as she slowly let her handful back to the table. Her mind going into overdrive, thoughts frantic as she thought back on their day. searching for any reason Gerald would be confessing to something he did.

And apologizing for it too.

She came up blank.

With a suspicious squint, lucinda raised her gaze to look at her wayward husband. Noting with trepidation that he looked like he was trying way too hard to appeer innocent. He was even wearing those God awful cat ears a friend of theirs had gotten for him as a gag gift last Christmas. Further encouraging his new found obsession with the little fluffballs.

Gerald’s head tilted, his eyes seeming to get even wider.

She glared, hands clasping together under her chin and elbows resting on the table. Long since having pushed her plate away, her appetite vanished.

“ What. Did. You. Do?”

Gerald shifted nervously, gaze darting away bashfully as he idly scratched at one of his human ears. Obviously contemplating something. After a moment, mouth pressing into a firm line, he seemed to nod to himself and encouragement before blurrting out.

“ I may have adopted six kittens.”

Lucinda froze, eyes widening in shock as her mouth sagged.

“ What do you mean you adopted?-“

Gerald quickly cut her off.

“ I also farted.”

The smell hit.

“ oh my God! Why does it smell like that?”

Despite her best effort, Amy hadn’t been able to bring herself to attend the gathering after Danny’s service. in all honesty, she had barely been able to make it through the funeral itself. All too aware of the stairs as she had been, that followed her throughout the day, watching her like some side exhibit at a science fair, just waiting for her to implode.

She felt like it.

She couldn’t handle this.

Pulling her knees tighter to her chest, Amy attempted to huddle further into the warmth of her late husband‘s favorite jacket.

It smelled like him.

Amy remembered the day she got it for him; joking with him that if they had had ever need to inhabit the woods, they could live comfortably with how many pockets the jacket boasted, no suitcases needed.

That situation would never happen now: there was no need of so many pockets anymore.

She was alone now, except for the memories.

And with a keen of lament, Amy finally broke.

She was ending it tonight.

Allyson Duffy was tired of being a doormat, a punching bag, and a convenient hole for her boyfriend‘s desires. she was tired of the assaults, of working her fingers to the bone, and of simply not being treated like an actual human being capable of rational thought, complex emotion, and a person in need of actual rest. She was tired of being treated like a possession. She was tired of the late nights where she relished in being alone while at the same time, dreaded the moment Scott came back. she was tired of being taken advantage of, but most of all, she was tired of feeling like she didn’t matter.

Because she didn matter.

It had just taken her a while to remember that.

Or rather, it had taken a while for her brother to drill it back into her head.

The very same brother she had thought cut her off.

It’s funny that even though she’s known pretty much from the get go that Her boyfriend was a compulsive liar, she had believed him when he had told her that.

She really was pathetic.

“Stop it.”

Despite the voice being soft, Allyson couldn’t help but flinch as she was drawn from her self deprecating thoughts. Her shoulders hunching as she automatically braced herself for a potential blow. Only managing to relax when she caught sight of her brother, Jeremy, out of the corner of her eye.

“I’m sor-“

Knowing better than to raise a hand, Jeremy shot her a quelling look that automatically stopped her apology in its tracks.

“ You have nothing to apologize for,” he smiled carefully before gently reprimanding, “ and you’re not pathetic.”

She looked away, continuing to idly play with the soul tube of lipstick that had survived her moving in with her soon to be ex. It was crimson. Her favorite color. she remembered liking wearing make up.

Maybe she would again.

Jeremy gently tap her chin back up. Making her meet his gaze once more.

“ Are you ready to go, kid?”

She nodded.

“and the little guy?”

A hand automatically Went to Rest upon her gently rounded belly, a smile tugging at her lips when she felt a flutter signifying her baby kicking.

Yes, she was ready.

Because she would be damned if she’d expose her baby to her living nightmare.

She was ending this.

She had to.