Hunted

Thirty: Hunting

Charlotte's surroundings passed her by, the walls, the rooms everything moving illogically, as if manipulated by some dream, or more likely, a nightmare. It could easily have been misconstrued as a nightmare, the surroundings morphing from one room to the next, as her mind left the bodies of The Charmer and Edwards behind, in search of fresh blood, of fresh terrors.

Her alteration passed through the walls of Nicholls' house like a terrible spectre, a formidable demonic spirit, on the prowl for an easy victim.

Charlotte grinned. Every victim was an easy victim now, seeing as The Charmer was no more. Her body trembled in anticipation, the cocktail of adrenaline and dominance, overcoming her weak frame. There was nobody who would be able to fight her off and that made her alteration purr with excitement. It had never been so free. She had never allowed it loose with the promise of killing before and for once she did not try to hinder it. She allowed that side of her take over, to drown out her doubtful, timid side.

Her alteration located Mel first, the sultry marker who had defaced her skin and could slit her throat with a mere thought. Charlotte didn't want to hold them all under at once, she wanted them to know what was coming before they died. She wanted them to suffer the fear of knowing they were next.

Charlotte's alteration latched to Mel enthusiastically, projecting an image of Charlotte standing before her, not as she was now, but as she had been on the island, strong, terrifying, and powerful. Mel was locked in a trance, but in the projection she stumbled back in shock.

"How did you get out?" she growled, her mind consciously preparing to attack, an attack she could never deliver.

"Well, after I killed Ross, it was easy," Charlotte grinned stepping towards her.

"You... what...?" Mel hissed, automatically crouching. Charlotte laughed, watching as she prepared to attack her as if they were training in hand-to-hand combat.

"He was so easy to finish off in the end," she gloated, her voice purring in satisfaction.

"That's absolute bullshit," she said, her voice dangerously low, but Charlotte smiled and shrugged.

"Doesn't really matter if you believe me - your time is up too," Charlotte was slightly aware of Mel's eyes widening, before the projection began to change. The door swung open behind her and a projection of Edwards shuffled in, no longer confined to his chair, his twisted limbs at grotesque angles. His head was bowed slightly, his breathing laboured, but he did not take his eyes from Mel. She squeaked, backing away from him.

"She's all yours Peter," Charlotte grinned, her voice gently urgent. Edwards appeared more like a zombie than the creature she had known in reality, his round owl-like eyes unblinking.

Charlotte's alteration fed on Mel's fear of Edwards, imposing the pain Charlotte had suffered at his twisted hands, upon the woman, each bone breaking and shattering in her mind, her will to withstand crumbling, her mind crushed beneath the terror he instilled, the terror of knowing he was never going to heal her. Mel's screams echoed through the projection on through reality, drawing others to her aid, just at the moment her body finally crumpled to the floor, her will to withstand her fear finally destroyed.

Charlotte didn't hesitate, her rampaging alteration turning on the two unknown men that had burst through the door into the kitchen. They too feared Edwards, but not near as much as they should have feared Charlotte, for she had them in her grasp and as their screams resounded about Nicholls' mansion, she stole their lives from them, her alteration throbbing with power and strength.

One after another Nicholls' altered began to rally against the unknown attacker, each falling beneath the weight of Charlotte's alteration, crushed easily with their fear of Edwards and his evil gift.