To any casual observer, the shimmer that crawled along the darkened sidewalk would appear as nothing more suspicious than a heat wave. In reality, it was a bedraggled group of teenagers, dragging heavy weapons behind them, barely able to lift their heads. Bridgitte and Isabelle were conversing in quiet tones, while Holly pawed uselessly at her once-clean hair. Jace and Alec led the group, talking quickly, their tones rising. Snippets of their conversation drifted back to Isabelle. She sighed. They were arguing about Magnus, as usual. Glancing at Bridgitte, Isabelle rolled her eyes pointedly. Jace- though he would never admit it- was resentful of the time Alec spent with Magnus. Somewhere deep inside her, Isabelle agreed. Before this relationship, they'd taken Alec for granted. Now they hardly saw him.

They barely noticed arriving at the Institute. They simply dragged their weary bodies inside and collapsed on the nearest soft thing.

3 hours later

Bridgitte glanced over her shoulder nervously, tightening her grip on her katanas. She viciously chided herself for her shaking legs, forcing herself onwards. She wasn't quite sure why she had come here alone, to this dark, damp place. Maybe it had something to do with today. She had watched the boys fighting, had joined in when she could, but she hadn't felt... right. Something about all the flipping, all the fighting felt so horribly wrong.

Bridgitte stopped in front of a mouldy black door. At least, she thought it was black, but as she leaned closer, she saw it was a dark brown. She hoped it was paint. It creaked open before she could touch it, sending shivers down her spine. Perhaps this wasn't such a good idea.

'Hello?' She called. Only her own, frightened echo answered.

Bridgitte's combat boots made heavy thumps on the rotten floor as she walked inside. Mind you, that was the idea. Any creature of the type she was looking for in a mile radius would hear her.

Thump. Bridgitte smiled. The vampire that had dropped from the ceiling twitched its head to the side.

'Why doth thy dare to enter our reside-'

'Oh, cut the act, macho. I aint got time for a welcome speech.'

The vampire straightened up slightly, as it had been hunched for effect.

'Orright 'den. What'cha want? The 'otel Dumont aint no drive 'froo. Git outta 'ere or suffer 'da conce- consqu- or suffer!'

Bridgitte smiled indulgently.

'You wanna know why I came here, big boy?' Bridgitte patted the vampire on his head.

'I came to do this.' And then the head she had been patting was severed from its neck, making it roll across the floor, still blinking slightly. Bridgitte looked around the upper balconies of the Hotel Dumont. The Hotel of Death. How appropriate. She thought. She knew that she would never see the light of day again, but she was going to take as many of these bastards with her as she could.