Cold grey eyes glinted through the shadow over his attacker's face. Brian stared back, almost entranced by the absolute emptiness that was present. There was no emotion behind those eyes, just a slight pleasure that she was causing pain. She had a calm feeling of victory. She knew she had won, and it brought her a sick satisfaction.

A burst of determination shot through his body, and his will took hold of his mind. He forced his arms free, groaning with the pain that it brought him, and the effort, but he pushed, and freed his arms. Her eyes registered a shock, he used the surprise to knock her off of him, and he reached for the coffee table nearby, and sent it flying towards her.

Standing up quickly, he ran to his cousin. He was lying limply on the floor, covered with blood. Closing his eyes in a quick prayer, he turned to see Beth, the girl from the bookstore, fall to the ground. He was alone with this demented woman.

She was moving again, having recovered from the attack. She stood up, and laughed. An empty laugh. An evil laugh. She walked slowly towards Brian, and Kevin's broken form. The knife was still in her hand, glinting dangerously as she walked towards them.

Brian stood up, in front of his cousin's body.

"You can't have him. I won't let you." She laughed. She had stopped walking.

"What are you going to do to stop me?"

"You'll have to kill me to get to him." Another laugh.

"More fun." Her voice was low and cold. It scared him. She glanced adoringly at the knife she held in her hand, and then she looked one more time at Brian. Into his eyes. He felt his soul shrink away from the cold eyes that were empty.

And suddenly she was thrown out of the way. A loud crash exploded in his ears, and his brain stopped registering images. Sounds, grunting, shrieking. A calm voice in the distance, echoing loudly.

"Get him out of here."

He bent down, and tried to pick up his cousin. The weight was too much, so he half-dragged him. And he went.

* * * *

Flashing lights, flashing red lights were glaring off the glass of the window. Red like blood. There was blood on his hands. Kevin's blood. But Kevin was still alive. No matter what else, Kevin was alive.

His thoughts were fragmented. The memories distorted through shock. Kevin was alive. Kevin was alive. There was blood on his hand. There was blood on the woman's shirt. Blood. But he was alive.

As the flashing lights filled the room, and medical units arrived at the house, taking over Brian's attempts at first aid, and uniformed officers flooded the foyer and raced up the stairs, eager to find the cause of the situation, Brian's thought process slowly returned to him.

When he reached the foyer, he reached for a phone and dialled for emergency help. Within minutes, police and ambulance crews were on the scene. Neighbours came flocking over. Brian watched helplessly as they continued to work on his cousin, to stop the bleeding that the vicious blade had caused.

The officers stormed the building, looking for the attacker. They came up empty handed. Every room in the house was empty except for the foyer where they were.

"But what about Beth?" he asked, describing the girl who had come to his aid this night. Fragments of the fight came back to him. She had thrown herself at the attacker, and once the attention was solely on her, she had screamed at Brian to go, to get his cousin out of the room and away from danger.

His eyes had met hers before he left the room. She seemed desperate to see him leave that room, and as he glanced over his shoulder the as he stepped over the threshold, she seemed to be relieved, a weight had been lifted off her shoulders.

He had left her there. And now they couldn't find her. But they could see the blood.

He ended up in the hospital, to see his cousin. Family and friends came running into the emergency room, eager to comfort him, eager for news regarding Kevin's condition. When it was announced that he was out of danger, Justine had managed to manoeuvre him into her car, and she drove him home.

She insisted that he not talk about it, and that he try to rest, so that he may visit his cousin tomorrow morning and face the questions that both the police and the media would throw in his direction. She left him, sitting underneath the eaves trough, watching a light rain cascade down onto the thirsty lawn. He felt numb.

He had just left her there. It was eating him up inside, the guilt over just leaving that quiet girl with her sad eyes with a demented maniac with hatred in her eyes. He stared blankly into the night, listening to the rain. And he waited for her. For he knew she would find him.