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WARNING: GRISLY SCENE UP AHEAD! The paragraph sentence that begins the nasty scene is: I had just stepped foot into the forest when I stopped short. So stop then if you don't want to read! (Sorry, I have a sick mind)

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I squint my eyes to make sense of what I was currently looking at. No füćking way, I thought to myself in amused jealousy. Wait - was I jealous? Maybe a little. . .

There they were, both of them attached to each other as if they spilt apart, the world around them would explode. And my and in that heated moment, that's what they truly felt.

"Wow. . ." I muttered in sarcasm as I turned around, my blonde head bowing and walked away from the house. So Ezra wanted to get his claws in her did he? For what though? He was practically damned - almost no retribution to save him existed. "It's her life." I reminded myself as I ventured into the forest beyond her house. Why should I care that Rachel and Ezra were taking it to the next level in her room? I shouldn't. And now I don't, I realized when I stopped abruptly.

I had just stepped foot into the forest when I stopped short. Lying in a disturbing, squishing pile of insides was a deer. Its head was cracked open, blood and organic matter spewing from the hole. Its eyes were black and blank, staring up at the darkening sky. Its pinkish tongue stuck out its mouth, an ant crawling on it. I stared for a while longer, letting the image of the gaping hole that still poured blood out of it, in the deers neck, settling in my mind.

The deers head had been left by a tree trunk, the rest of its body, I found out as I walked away, was laid almost respectfully a few meters away. The body was less. . .bloody but still gag worthy. It had been mangled so badly that I could see the parts where the flesh underneath the skin had turned to mush. It was like a bruised apple; it was all purple and black and. . .soft looking. I made a face but bent down to look at it further. Of course this was no ordinary wolf, coyote, or even a bear. This was something like me. . .and Ezra.

On further inspection I noticed that its underbelly had turned from a place beige colour to a nasty black colour. I picked up a random, nearby stick and poked at the skin. Like it was a water balloon (and the stick a needle) it popped easily and spewed out innards. I gasped and fell back on my butt, an arm raised in reflex.

Lorin, Lorin, Lorin. . .I thought to myself in mild amusement when I realized how stupid I looked. I've seen things worse than this. Hell, I may have done things worse than this! All us supernaturals had a tendency, a natural order - like how every human passes the teenage milestone in their life - to hurt something. It was apparently a natural part of our lives. Even when you were only part supernatural. I know I'd done things to a poor bird when I was younger. Looking back, it seemed bad, but the dead deer laying at my feet made the bird seem like getting a paper cut: small, stupid - but it stung.

I shook my head to clear away my thoughts as I stood up on my feet, brushing debris off of my clothes. My bad side and good side always seemed to be at war.

"You -" I began prepping myself, but stopped as soon as I heard it. A sick, wet, mulching sound that made me cringe and gag. And a few chewing and crunching sounds as well. I knew I shouldn't do it, but my curiosity was far more stronger than my good and bad side. And so, I went closer - cautiously.

With a hand on a tree that steadied me, I peered around a tree truck to see what was causing that disgusting noise. A crouched woman, with her hunched back toward me, slurping - yes, slurping - what I could guess was the remains of the deer. The wild grass around her was stained red, the leaves of some bushes stained the same colour as well. Except some had organic matter on them. What had Rachel been farming in her backyard!? I thought jokingly despite the situation. I could honestly agree with why she never went outside, now.

Removing my disgusted gaze away from a chunk of brain that slowly slid down a leaf and onto the ground in a splat! I returned my gaze to the huddled woman. She wore a pant and suit which had seen better days. It was bloodied throughly and was cut up a little here and there. I guess she finally noticed my gaping presence when she suddenly stopped slurping and chewing, and slowly turned around to face me. I think I might have recognized her. . .

"Ah. . ." Her raspy, almost unintelligible voice whispered out. I know I would have paid her millions to act as a possessed woman in a horror movie.

I was startled despite already having seen the worser stuff. I backed away against the tree as she hobbled over to my, her legs still bent in a crouch.

The trees trunk poked the bare flesh of my hands and neck, tangling my hair with its splinters. The woman was at my feet now, staring up at me with amused yellow eyes and a toothless grin. Without warning, she reached one of her bloodied hands up, touching my jeans and leaving bloody streaks on the tough blue material. She grinned wider as she saw me widen my eyes. Her hand slipped higher, her fingers playing with the hem of my sweater. I swallowed audibly as she began to cackle in loud, witch-like laughter.

"Oh, don't look so scared, darling. . ." She whispered as she stood up to her full height.

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