A/N: dedicated to BrooklynApostle, for wanting this update so badly :)

---

Rowena had entered the cabin so suddenly and quietly that Marcella was shocked at the sound of her voice as it came from above her head. Muffled by the floor boards between them, she strained her ears to pick up on her grandmother's rushed words.

"This can't be true. Silva? Here? There's no way."

There was yet another howl, though this one sounded like it had come from right outside the front door.

"Oh gods, Joe, he's here!"

"What? Who's 'he'?"

"Why didn't I see it before? Why didn't I guess it? Of course he's here, how else could Silva have gotten out? Joe he's coming!" Rowena's frightened tone sent chills down Marcella's spine as she heard claws scratch on wood, a growl rolled in like a constant thunder, rising in volume and culminating in a loud and angry bark.

"Ro? Ro!" Joe sounded frightened, Marcella could hear panic squeezing the oxygen from his words.

There was a bang and Rowena screamed. Silva continued to threaten them from outside and Marcella fell to the floor. She put her hands against her ears and tried not to scream along with her grandmother.

"Five little speckled frogs." Marcella pressed her hands to her ears and sang alongside her grandparents voices. "Sitting on a speckled log."

"Ro! What can I do? I wanna help you! Tell me what's happening? What do you see?"

"Eating the most delicious bugs."

"Ahhhh!" The pain in Rowena's voice lanced through Marcella.

"YUM YUM!" The girl screamed and pulled her hair as there was a clap of wood against wood. The front door flew open and Marcella could hear Rowena being dragged away from the wolf by Joe as the woman's heels kicked against the floor and she continued to scream.

Silva's savagery became louder as she entered the cabin. Joe begged her to stay back and Marcella cried as he started to scream. She crawled into the darkest, tiniest nook she could find. She hummed her nursery rhyme to herself as she rocked back and forth, her face dripping with sadness, fear, and left over red face paint.

The screaming and kicking tapered off. Silva's growls lasted only a little longer, then there were footsteps coming across the floor. The trap door opened and Marcella stopped humming as light filtered into the cellar. She squeezed her eyes tight and felt the energy of someone . . . strong. It came closer to her and she heard a voice that wasn't a voice. The molecules around her vibrated with a message of peace and calm. They told her that it was time to wake up, to move, to go somewhere else.

She opened her eyes very slowly, the bright colors that filled her vision almost burned her retinas. As she adjusted to the light, she took in the sight of colors and lights dancing around her. Then his face appeared, emerging from the epicentre of the dancing cosmos which had filled the cellar. It was a smooth face, with a porcelain complexion, framed on either side with long chestnut hair. His chest was bare and writhing with tattoos which seemed to be alive.

The man's hand reached out and everything went white. The cellar faded away, as did the man, and in a moment of earth shattered clarity and joy she heard a simple phrase, whispered from inside herself and all around her at the same time.

"It's over, for now. Open your eyes."

And then the pain settled in and it was all she could feel. It radiated from her fingers and toes, up through her limbs, then focused entirely in the crook of her right arm. She felt a tugging in her arm, then the white light began to fade. The cellar came back into being, now dark and quiet. She realized she was lying down, on her bed, and questioned how. There were devices all around her which she hadn't remembered seeing before, an IV needle hanging by her right side which dripped with her own blood mixed with some clear liquid. Some of the devices were electronic in nature, with lights and beeping sounds which reminded her of the hospital. Others were . . . unclassifiable. They seemed more organic than mechanic, and they set her into a peculiar downward spiral of uneasiness.

She got to her feet and moved towards the ladder which led up into the cabin. Slowly, carefully, she climbed into the light of above ground windows. She peeked her head over the floor and gasped at the bloody mess of her grandparents.

After catching her breath, she lifted herself up out of the cellar entirely. She sidestepped towards Rowena and Joe, daring not to look at them as tears stung her eyes. A quick glance at the mirror felt wrong, like something had changed but she had more pressing matters to focus on.

"Granny?" She whispered, then, "Joe?"

There was no response and she slipped through puddles of blood to get closer. "Hello?"

Rowena struggled for breath and Marcella rushed to her side. She knelt down and cupped what remained of the older woman's face in her hands.

"Marcy . . ." Rowena licked her lips. "Don't . . . let him get you."

"Why? Where did he go? If he wants me why didn't he take me?"

"Don't . . . let . . ." Rowena went silent and Marcella cried some more, smeared with blood as she wiped tears from her face.

"Granny?" The woman remained quiet. "No . . . please . . . what am I supposed to do? You can't just leave me! Not like this . . ."

Marcella cried and whimpered more unanswered questions to her grandmother's cooling corpse. Who was that man? Why did he want her? Why not just be done with it when he had the chance?

A tweeting song beckoned her attention toward the rafters. Raphael was glowing his bright yellows and oranges, glancing around the cabin almost without purpose.

"Raph, my shooting star." She tried to laugh as she stood up, looking back down at Rowena and Joe. "What are we going to do?"

Raphael tweeted and whistled then took off. He dipped through the open door and disappeared into the sky. Marcella was left broken hearted and abandoned . . . again.

She stood up and took a deep, soothing breath. She was alone, she had to fend for herself. She had to survive. Deciding to leave the terrible scene wasn't enough for Marcella. She knew the things she'd seen would never leave her now, no matter how far away from them she could manage to walk. As she stepped past the mirror, she realized what was different. The only red on her face was smeared blood. There was no fading makeup around her ears and nose, the harder places to clean. She had no residual glue on her chin or hairline.

She tried not to think about it and continued on her way out of the hell house. She strolled across the large field of a lawn, trying to surpress the crushing feeling of betrayal and loneliness with each step. After crossing into the border of trees, Marcella realized she felt the presence of eyes on her back. She stopped walking and was greeted by a soft growl.

"Silva?" She asked. How could she have been so dumb to assume the wolf would just left her behind?

The bloodied snout poked from the trees, surrounded in the gray-blue frequency.

"Please . . . why are you doing this to me? Why won't you just end me!"

The wolf's lip curled back as she moved closer to Marcella, nudging her forward.

"Okay, stop pushing." Marcella wanted to keep crying but her tear ducts had run dry. Her body shook and shivered with quiet panic and she inched forward, turning whenever instructed and obeying Silva's every wordless demand.