“Stay where you are. Don't move!” A loud and commanding voice yelled to me from across the concrete. Already on my knees he didn't need to tell me to 'get down', as I was expecting, nor did he yell at me to 'put my hands up'. I supposed my limited experience of the human law was a little clichéd, coming mostly from snippets of TV shows or films, not exactly good preparation for the real thing.

A halo of blue flashing lights surrounded the officer that approached me in the harsh glare of the afternoon sunlight. He looked distorted and strange as he moved, hazy in the shimmering heat so that I couldn't quite make him out. Clad all in black riot gear he looked somewhat like a giant insect as he crept across the car park, what looked like a gun pointed in my direction.

The other officers had all filed into the prison, obviously figuring a woman on her own would not be too much of a threat to the heavily armoured and armed policeman. There were bigger and much more frightening things to be dealt with inside of that building. Though the demon was long gone and I felt that a team of coroners and forensic scientists would have served them better than an armed police squad; they were going to need a lot of body bags and one hell of a clean up crew to deal with the mess he'd left in his wake.

Tucking the hefty bunch of guards keys I still held into my jacket pocket, I raised my hands in the air in surrender. He might not have asked me to do it, but it felt like the most appropriate thing I could do.

“Please, I just want to go home.”

The tears of despair and frustration I'd tried so hard to hold on to were released and started to roll in hot trails down my cheeks. A good show of crying ought to serve me well in that moment. A poor, helpless woman, traumatised by the horror she'd seen inside that prison; it was an act I needed to play well if I wanted to get away from that place free from any suspicion. If I was lucky, everyone who'd witnessed me arrive with Frank – who had then of course turned into the horrifying monster – would be dead, leaving nothing to tie me to the incident. Until, of course, they checked the footage on the security cameras, but hopefully by that time I'd be long gone.

“Please, that thing it...I just want to go home,” I stuttered between sobs, hoping he would lower that menacing looking weapon, it was making me nervous.

“Who are you?” he asked in a measured voice, “what are you doing here?”

His second question felt somewhat redundant, how many reasons could there be for someone to cower outside of a prison? But I would answer it anyway. “M-my name is Heather. I was visiting when...oh God, that thing, all those people...” I felt I was laying it on way too thick, being over dramatic, but really, what was the right reaction for a human to have after seeing a room full of people slaughtered in front of their eyes?

“What do you mean?” If I could have properly seen his face I am sure he was wearing a frown. “What happened here?”

That question stumped me a little more, they'd obviously not been briefed on exactly what was going on inside the prison when they'd been called in – and no wonder, who would have believed it. How did I explain what had happened, while trying to retain the point-of-view of someone who didn't actually know the truth of it? Luckily I was saved from having to answer right away when the heavy main doors clattered open and one of the other officers stumbled through.

He fell to his knees at the top of the steps, tore off his helmet and vomited down onto the baking concrete. The inside of that room was a sight that might turn even the most seasoned of homicide officers stomachs, but something told me that this guy was probably a newbie with this squad. Nice initiation.

“What the hell?” The officer who stood over me had turned to watch the scene with his colleague unfold, it certainly wasn't something he'd expected to happen.

You want to think yourself lucky you're out here with me, and not in there with the real horror, I thought to myself, though I was careful not to let the words slip from my lips. Though I couldn't help the cruel twist of my mouth as I fought back a smirk. The tears had run out, and my throat felt thick from sobbing when I did venture to speak.

“So much blood,” I said, in a low, ominous tone. “All those people, it killed them all. The blood was everywhere, I just had to get out of there.”

I stood up and saw him look at me properly for the first time. As I cowered on my knees and cried he couldn't really see, but as I stood in the hot afternoon sun, hands still raised as the blood that covered with them dried and cracked, he took in the sight. My face was not only streaked with tears, but ran red from the spatter that had hit my cheeks, the knees of my jeans were dark with gore and the trail of bloody footprints we'd led out of the door showed exactly where we'd been. I was only lucky he was too caught up with processing what he was seeing that he didn't think to count different trails of prints – how could I explain where Jesse had gone?

“Don't move.” He'd raised the gun again as I stood, I couldn't blame him for being cautious, what was going was like something out of a horror film. I stood, though the stricken look of fear and despair I kept etched on my face belied the calmness I displayed.

Seeming content that I was not a threat the officer nodded to me. “Wait right there,” he commanded before he hurried off to his sick colleague and I knew he'd be checking out the story I'd, sort of, relayed to him. No one could deny the blood and the dead, the 'thing' was another matter. Did anyone else live that could say what had done this? And to be honest I wasn't sure what answer to that question I was hoping for – both held far too many potential complications for me.

I would do as he said though, as much as part of me was desperate to run, to get away from everything that was going on. Find myself a little time and a little space away from it all to just think, and try to plan out what my next move should be. I hadn't anticipated this, other scenarios had run through my mind; mostly I'd been hopeful that Jesse and I would have gotten away from the demon and currently be on the run. Otherwise, I had anticipated that we'd both end up stuck in Hell, still stuck in the shit but as we'd be together I'd be in less of a quandary than I was now. Why the hell hadn't I given in and gone with the Whisperer? Why did I have to be so damn stubborn?

As it was, though, there was no way I was getting anywhere. The road was filled with police cars, and though I couldn't see any of them, I was under no delusion that every single member of the force that had been sent out was inside that building, hell there was two of them on the steps. They were armed and very dangerous. I had Jesse's car keys, but I couldn't drive. Well, I might be able to make a good go of it, I'd watched enough times to have the idea, but enough to get away from a squad car? Not a chance. Even so I wasn't sure I'd be able to find my way back to Jesse's house from there, I hadn't paid all that much attention to where we headed while Frank was driving; my mind had been on other things.

So stay put it was. I would convince them I knew nothing of any real use to them, or that the trauma of it all caused my version of events to be questionable, and hope that they would take pity on me and give me a lift back 'home'. Returning to the village was probably not the best of ideas, that was the first place the demons would come searching for me, but I wasn't sure where else to turn. One more night though, that wouldn't hurt, surely?

There of course was always the possibility that they wouldn't take me back. Would I be arrested for questioning? Sent to a hospital to make sure I wasn't injured, or for some psychological evaluation? It was all possible, and not something I was sure I could handle too well in that moment. An idea struck me. Checking that they weren't watching me, I scooted back to the car and opened up the boot. That little vial of yellow 'potion' was still stashed in there with my other things. As much as I hated the possibility of losing it all, I could feasibly life without everything in those bags, but that vial of sticky yellow liquid could well be my ace in the hole if things didn't go my way. I slipped it into my handbag and closed the boot again, as quietly as possible and moved back to my spot. The officers were so engrossed in their own conversation that they hadn't even noticed me move, all for the better.

I felt a little more content with that last tie to my demon roots tucked safely away in my bag, but I was still no closer for an answer to my dilemma. Where should I go from there – once I got away from the police of course – did I risk everything and venture to Hell in the hopes of finding Jesse? Was it worth it? Would be already be dead when I got there? Or did I just swallow my pride and set out on my own, try to make a new life for myself in the human world, and live forever dodging demon bullets? Neither was very appealing, nor did either feel like the lesser of two evils. Where do you go when both paths you're faced with seem to lead to dead ends?

Caught up in my thoughts, I barely heard the main doors open yet again as more people trooped out of the main building. The sound of chattering grabbed my attention and I looked up to see a couple of very pale, sick looking people, splattered in blood being carefully led down the steps and into the sunny car park. An ambulance made it's way down the road, it's blue lights flickering in the brightness of the afternoon, and I had a feeling I would be loaded into the back of it with the few remaining survivors of the Whisperer's deadly slaughter.

More officers slowly emerged from the building, sweltering in their riot gear. Not air-conditioned, the air inside of that visiting room must have been ripe by that point; a combination of rotting meat and a filthy outhouse. Add to that the sight of so much carnage it was really no wonder that guy had been sick. I was surprised more of them didn't lose their lunches. The survivors were in shock, it was plain to see even at the distance I stood from the entrance, though aside from the mental scarring they appeared to be unscathed. They had been lucky.

The ambulance found a spot between the parked squad cars through which it crept up in front of the prison entrance and two paramedics jumped out to open its rear doors and check over the survivors. The officer who'd stayed outside with me – at least I presumed it was the same one, all dressed the same it was kind of hard to tell – trotted back over and I knew I was also to be led to the waiting medical staff.

I wasn't in shock like the others, I was far from scarred by the experience. I'd known exactly what the demon would do, although his actual transformation had been a new experience, and I was handling everything far better than I was supposed to. I had to mentally prepare myself to feign shock and trauma. The physical tells would be difficult to replicate, though it certainly helped that I shivered with cold in the height of the summer heat, clutching my leather jacket around my shoulders. My naturally pale skin would aid me in faking the sick white pallor of the others, but I cursed the fact I'd forgotten to put in my coloured contacts, how did I explain those eyes away?

He gestured for me to come with him without saying a word, perhaps it wasn't the same one after all. Obediently I followed, somewhat anxious as we approached the ever growing group of people. Of all the survivors, I was the only one that had managed to make it out of that room on my own. A vast collection of bloody footprints had marred the trail Jesse and I had left, there would be no sure way to tell I hadn't left on my own. A lot of remains would be indistinguishable, at least not without vast forensic study, it would be some time before they realised Jesse was gone, and yet not one among the dead. There was nothing they could pin on me, as long as they didn't ask too many questions I might just be able to get out of there, just so long as...

“Hey,” one of the survivors called out as the officer and I approached the medics. “That's her. She's the one that brought that thing in there.”

My eyes widened in real shock, maybe I wouldn't have to fake it for the paramedics after all. I could have gotten away with it all, just so long as one of those survivors didn't recognise me as the one who'd freed the demon.