Calamitas.

I stare in horror at Angela's gray, eyeless face. It is expressionless as she slowly advances upon me. I duck her arms and scramble to my feet, backing away from her. But, I realize too late, she is now between me and the door.

"Angela!" I shout to her in vain, her expression never changing as she turns toward me.

Wake up, I tell myself, wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up!

This cannot be happening. My mind goes into overdrive, trying to reject what I see before me as Angela - or the thing that was Angela - grabs me by the shoulder. My mouth opens in shock; the crushing grip is more powerful than any vice. I hear a crack and yell in pain as I feel the bones in my shoulder giving way.

Angela's expression remains unchanged.

Before I can fully process it, I'm body slammed into the wall into the wall, my head striking it sickeningly. I manage to tear her hand from my shoulder and stumble back.

She's already there. Her palm slams into my chest, forcing me into another wall. I can hear cracks - not from my body, but from the stone wall - and I cough, tasting blood in my mouth.

Wake up!

I slump to the ground, trying to crawl to the door. For once I am thankful for the size of my house - I crawl only a few feet before I am at the door. My hands fumble at it, trying to reach the knob.

Almost.

Almost.

I reach the handle. I pull -

Crack.

Pain shoots through my leg. I cry out in my agony, and manage to twist around to look behind me. Angela has her foot planted upon my leg, her face disgustingly vacant.

Crack.

I grit my teeth as Angela exerts even more of her inhuman strength, crushing my leg.

Crack.

Wake up.

Crack.

Wake up!

Snap.

I scream. My lower leg bends to the side in a sickening fashion as the bone breaks completely in half. Tears course from my eyes, horror and agony mixing inside me. Angela's expression remains the same. She reaches forward, and I feel her fingers lace around my throat. I can feel myself being pulled upward, upward still, until my feet only brush on the ground and I dangle from her vice-like grip. I can feel it tightening. I gasp and wheeze for air that will not come as she crushes my windpipe, my vision blurring. This is it, I think to myself, this is how it ends - dying by the hand of the only person I've ever truly loved. I suppose... I suppose there are worse ways to die. I gradually lose consciousness. I begin to feel numb, first in my limbs, the feeling working through me until it permeates my body. I gradually stop trying to breathe. My eyes close. I feel a sort of calm, and then...

Pain. Intense pain. Something is slicing into the palm of my hand. I can barely move it but I can feel it cutting into my flesh, hitting bone. It hits me in a flash.

The blade!

I manage to open my eyes. Through foggy and hazy vision, I can see Angela's gray, dead, eyeless face staring back at me. The expression doesn't change.

Even as I slash the blade across her throat, it doesn't change.

There is no blood. Ash flows from the gash in her neck, her face not showing any sign of registering the injury. Her grip loosens, slowly at first, but her hand goes slack. My broken leg hits the floor, and I yell in agony as I collapse on the ground.

Angela just stands there. After a moment, her body seems to lose all composure, and she falls limp to the ground, like a ragdoll. Her facial expression still remains unchanged as she slumps down, her dead, eyeless face inches from my own.

A few minutes pass before the enormity of what I've just done hits me, its strength and force no less massive than that of the monster Angela had become.

I killed her.

She's dead now.

I killed her.

I attempt to rationalize it, saying to myself that she was already dead, that she'd already become... whatever hideous monster she'd become. Ultimately, thought, I feel no better. I killed the only person I'd ever loved.

I weep. For hours, days, perhaps - I lose track of time. And somewhere in my despair, I notice something. The blade is still in my hand. A sizeable puddle of blood has formed on the floor around it. I examine the blade, examine the blood flowing from the gashes in my hand. Suddenly, the pain seems to no longer bother me. In that instant, the world somehow changes. The forest that I can see seems somehow less vibrant, the grass more sickly and gray. Everything around me seems more lifeless. The blade, though - the gleaming metal seems more beautiful than anything I've ever seen. I see the blood congealed around it, flowing from my wounds like the last of my humanity. My resolve builds.

I know, deep down, that the thing I saw in the market was responsible for what happened to Angela. I know that it caused her to die, even before I killed her. And I know that I will make it pay.

I don't care if it's real, or something beyond my comprehension. I don't care at all, because I know what I have to do. I will gather all of Them, all of the 2538. I will bring Them together, and use them to destroy the thing that took Angela from me... that made me kill her. It does not matter what I will have to do. I will torture, burn, maim, and kill. I will annihilate all who stand in my way. Nothing will stop me from having my revenge, and bringing Angela back.

This I swear.