Reaper's Word

Clair lay curled up in the venting of the building. Well some of it was really the chutes that led all over the house. She'd found a large flat area in one space and had chosen that to pretty much call home. She guessed that this was more of a heating system for the house but the heat wasn't on. Besides who knew? The house was a maze and full of bizarre things. This felt safe and where she was going to stay. She wasn't going to share it with no one.

She was staring at the metal wall in front of her. A dim light came up from somewhere below. She heard a woman scream and didn't even move or flinch. Five days had passed. Five miserable and terrifying days. Time was starting to become irrelevant now. Now it was just surviving and staying hidden.

She had a small stash of food here and a few blankets to lay on. She was slowly learning where the different chutes went to. It was hard to climb them at first. Her muscles sore and hurting, but it was here or out there somewhere. At least here she could fall into a kind of sleep. The hell hounds couldn't get into the vents, and she kept to areas that were to small for Isaiah to possibly get in. Though she had a hard time believing that he would follow into the vents. Who knew?

She'd seen a person torn apart in front of her they other day. Very nearly died herself. It was the small voice in her head that spoke to her. It said, ‘Run Clair, run or die here.’

She didn't want to die here. When she was forced to leave her safe haven, she would look out the windows at the deceptive peace out there. Foolishly hoping for a savior to show, but nothing was out there but wilderness. She was sure the place was shrouded in magic to keep it hidden. Who knew the world held such things?

It had taken two days before she'd managed to fall asleep too. She didn't know who was left or how many, and she couldn't really find it to care. She'd come across Laura once in the kitchen and slapped her across the face before leaving.

She hadn't come across Isaiah again since that first night being here and she was doing her best to not come across him. She moved around during the day as Gregori had said. It was true, the hell hounds weren't ever out then, rarely if they did show.

Clair was confused as to how they could just bring people here and not have been found out. They must be very good at doing this. She'd spoken to Gregori one more time before he'd been killed yesterday. He'd said that he and a few of his friends had come up here to party. They'd been promised a good time and plenty to drink along with women.

When they got here there were others as well. They weren't allowed in until they signed. It was claimed to be a safeguard for all involved. If one was going down, then they all were. Two had refused and stayed back. He said that once they were inside they heard gunshots and all hell had broken out for them shortly after.

She came back to reality as she heard running somewhere below, and then a low growl. She just stayed where she was and closed her eyes. Silent tears came down, she didn't want to make a sound or draw attention to where she was. She fell asleep like that. Her body tense and tears running down her face.

rest of the day. Moving every now and then when she felt cramped, and

again. She set down her drawing tools. She grabbed them the other day when looking for food. Her bag randomly sat in the kitchen like it was waiting for her. The only thing that took her from

would happen just stopped her. Her bravado from the first night was very nearly gone. She had just enough light in here from the tap light she had

she came to where she wanted. The bathroom she used every

for her to fit through. She'd searched

several unopened toothbrushes, toothpaste and mouthwash. Towels were folded and stacked in a rack. In the cabinet below the sink were medical supplies and aspirin, along

being hunted down? However Clair looked at the shower and she did long for one. Just to feel human and alive. Sitting on a shelf inside the ornate clawed bathtub was shampoo and conditioner, along with soap. Clair smelled herself and touched her hair, gross. Now she wondered

was silent. She didn't know how such an old house had plumbing or these basic needs. Who was there to even ask, what did it matter? However she

found a pair of cotton pants. A bit big but they would do for now. Her clothes were grimy, her hair greasy and she figured that having a cleaner scent would blend her more into the

die, I'm not dying laying in my own filth." She said battling with if this was smart or not. If she was about to become that horror movie

was beautiful, everything in it was ornate and set up like a museum in a way. It was always spotless, even the rooms that had damage done to them. You could leave and come back an hour later and everything would be back in place. Magic, go

that were cracked or smashed, seemed to replace themselves. Blood stains just seemed to disappear. Clair pushed the memories away and opened another drawer. She grabbed the yellow shirt

glanced out and used her sixth sense to feel around her. She practiced constantly to get stronger. Now she could feel large areas around her, move larger objects with her mind. She felt this was going to keep her alive. She did make sure she kept her signature small, or at least she hoped she was. If Clair was good at anything, it

underwear down the chute. They could go. She kept

dry but that was okay. She didn't

little and used that to get a lather on the soap. She did this a

turned on the shower and gasped at the very cold spray but scrubbed harshly and quickly. Rinsing her hair and her body. Moving with quick hands and keeping her mind open she felt, but nothing came to her. She looked like a crazy person scrubbing herself haphazardly.She shut off the water, her mind timing herself less than four minutes. She was sure that if anyone had been watching this, it might have looked