The smell of morning rain came over the Warren child. Outside the clouds roam along the endless blue sky, sunbeams peaking through some of them. Lia rubbed her eyes awake, yawning at hearing the faint chirping of birds. She had herself sandwiched between the two adults who soundly slept opposite from each other.

She tried wriggling out of their embrace, pulling her arm free from her mother's. Lorraine stirred for awhile, before surging into sleep once more. Ed on the other hand, did not. At the feeling of movement he fluttered his eyes open and watched as his daughter tried to untangle herself from their bed.

"Good morning," She let out a yelp, turning around as fast as lightning. Ed cracked a smile, patting his daughter's head and getting up himself. She watched as her father stood not before taking her hand and pulling her up as well, "Come on, let's make breakfast."

Lia hesitated, glancing back at Lorraine. She had her head against the back of her hand, facing the windows while she peacefully slept. "Don't worry, she'll be fine." Both left the bedroom, leaving the clairvoyant resting in peace. Ed didn't debate on whether his wife needs rest, because quite frankly she does. After what happened last night, there's no point in arguing.

"We can bring Mom breakfast when she wakes up, how's that?" The child nodded, taking Ed's hands as they trudge down the stairs. Soft humming reached their ears, the birds were swaying and singing a merry tune for the morning, wings spread wide taking in the wind's breeze. Ed wished that mornings like these would forever come in their future, bringing in delight for whatever was happening.

The sun peeked through the velvet curtains, lighting the room with beams of sunrays. The two headed to the kitchen, each had their hands wrapped around one another still. While the father daughter duo were busy making breakfast for the day, each taking their time it seems, the clairvoyant upstairs began to wake.

Lorraine stirred, feeling the linen sheets between her fingers. She squints her eyes away from the window, the sun beams making them water a bit. Her hand instinctively glided their way to her side, reaching for her husband and daughter's familiar warmth. But she could only sigh as she opened her eyes wide and saw that she was all alone.

Getting up, she tightly wrapped around her robe, fixing herself before emerging outside their bedroom. The caramel curls of her hair bounced slightly as she descended down the stairs and headed to the kitchen where she heard most of the racket.

Her steps prodded along the ceramic tiles of their home, careful not to make a noise. Finally she halts, Lorraine quietly rested her hand on one of the kitchen counters and watched as her husband and daughter laughed their way through the process of cooking.

Ed had his hands on his daughter's waist, holding her securely to avoid her from falling off the wooden stool. Meanwhile the child gingerly stirred of what was left of the pancake batter, most of it was smooched on her face and hands and all over the counter, but the father didn't seem to mind.

"Having fun are we," Both heads spun and looked, eyes wide but settled once more after seeing the grin on the clairvoyant's face. Lia quickly lets go of the spoon and climbed down the stool, she had a smile on her face to which brought a warm feeling for the mother. Lorraine picked her up, placing the child on her hip and softly kissed her temple.

"It's good to see you smile, my darling."

Lia replied with a small smile, clinging to her mother's neck and avoided her gaze. "Alright little chef, clean yourself up for school. I'll take over from here," Ed spoke, eyes glinting amusingly. "-and please be careful next time?" He added, gazing at the child who slowly nodded.

Lorraine placed her down and watched as Lia climbed up the stairs. She waited for a moment, hearing the bedroom door upstairs close before turning to face her husband. "Be careful with what?"

Ed sighed, turning around to fix the audible mess on the kitchen counter. "She almost tripped on the spilt batter on the floor," He paused, placing the empty bowl in the sink. "If I hadn't caught her then she would've fallen over."

"She smiled," Lorraine sighed, crossing her arms and softly looked at her husband. "You should've seen her laugh." Ed added, now making his way to his wife. Both felt the air lighten, yesterday had been heavy on all of them and it felt nice to feel the sudden change in atmosphere.

"I'd sacrifice the world to hear it again."

...

The couple went inside after giving farewell to their daughter. The child had been feeling reluctant on going to school but alas, a reassuring phrase and look from both her parents made her willing to at least step outside their front door.

"Hey hon," Ed began, gathering his tool bag. "I'm outside if you need anything."

Lorraine nodded, her hands and eyes busy on her Bible. She didn't bother looking up and Ed could only shrug as he went to their backyard, grabbing Winston along the way. The father planned on building the chicken its very own coop, and it seems as though this was a good day to do it.

Deciding on not taking cases for awhile felt very different as to what the couple grew accustomed with. Yes, they do take breaks here and there but most of their days consists of running errands on the daily cases of paranormal activity.

Their desks were, most of the time, stacked with papers and letters from all around town. The shrieking of the telephone grew accustomed to their ears as it always rang by midday, or even past midnight.

The one thing the Warrens were known for, was with their willingness on helping the helpless. Especially Lorraine, she never once turned down a call from someone who needed help. Even if the call had been three o'clock in the morning, or how tired she felt that day.

And sitting comfortably on their couch was the clairvoyant reading the leather bounded scripture she carefully handled with her palms. It was her pastime, that or tending to their growing garden outside.

Her fingers quietly flicked through the thin silk pages, eyes following each sentence while her lips quietly tasted the words. She had her back leaning against the soft cushion of the couch and her legs tangled in each other as they were crossed.

Perhaps she was too invested on the book to notice the click of a switch and the stinging pitched sound of a frequency being pulled. She only noticed when a sudden jab of melody followed by voices enveloped the room with their sound.

Pulling out from her reading trance, the clairvoyant steadied her beating heart. "Ed?" Her hands carefully place the scripture down, lifting her hooded eyes to scan the empty room.

"Is that you?" She called, not letting her voice falter. The sound of hammer banging against wood faintly reached her ears making her stand and walk by their glass window.

It overlooked the whole garden, and if you weren't paying close attention, it could be mistaken as a renaissance painting instead of glass and wooden frames.

Her eyes rested on the crouching figure on the grass, and it wasn't difficult to identify that it was indeed her husband, Ed. He wielded a small iron hammer, banging on the nails' head against the plank of oak while all the others waited their turn.

She curiously watched one last time before turning away and focused her gaze elsewhere. The radio, it sat across the other side of the living room, hidden by the curvature of the wall from where she sat.

It kept playing, battling off frequency after frequency and not settling on one strong line. She lingered from where she stood for a moment, eyeing the thing with such suspicion before reluctantly walking closer until her fingers managed to touch the switch.

Her touch was careful, caressing the sides with delicate fingertips until finally pressing the button off. And on instant, the room fell silent. All the clairvoyant could hear was her own breathing, and if she kept quiet enough, she could hear the soft footsteps behind her.

Soft heavy footsteps, were they walking? running? She didn't know. But she could hear it, slowly creeping up on her...before stepping back away again.

With everything she could muster, she tightly held onto her rosary. The clairvoyant gulped and turn around fast, scanning the room in panic, eyes darting from every corner, nook and cranny she could lay her eyes on.

She slowly made her way to their couch, her breathing thinned and she never once left her gaze on the radio or anywhere near it. A slight gasp escaped her lips when her ankle made contact with the couch's leg, and there she sat and pried open her Bible once more.

A gust of cold wind blew past her, causing her skin to shiver and cover the entire sleeve with goosebumps. She voiced a cry and flipped through her Bible at a very hasty pace. She could feel it, whatever it was.

"-come on, come on,"

Lorraine prayed and silently read the verses through her eyes, unaware of a figure sitting across from her. Her senses felt dull and she swore she heard someone breath a laugh.

Still, she silently kept praying. Her soft whispers reached her ears but caught something different, a voice that doesn't belong to hers.

She fell silent, hearing the heavy breathing beside her. Her fingers were cold and her hands were numbed, she refused to look. The clairvoyant kept her gaze down, her mind urging her to look but not once did she gave way, not once did she glance.

Her breathing became shallow, her eyes pricked with tears threatening to fall. She could hear it gag and gulp, each sound making her cringe.

It suddenly coughed, hard and heavy, before puking liquid beside her. She flinched when some of it splattered across her face and legs, some getting on her Bible.

Blood, it was blood. She felt her stomach turn, twisting on ends at the sight in front of her very eyes.

Thick red liquid seeped through the pages of her scriptures as she watched horrified. She refused to move, drilled to her spot as if her whole body collapsed into paralysis.

There, she heard it. It was small and unnoticeable, but closer and closer it came did it register in her head. It buzzed and flapped 'round her ear, buzz buzz it goes.

One, two, three, it seemed to add on forever. Until she felt all of them surrounding her, daring to touch her porcelain skin and tint it with the color of black and blood.

She shrieked, flies. And a thousand of them, circled above and around the clairvoyant with ease.

It seem to never end, surrounding her with nothing but darkness.

She could feel the thick sensation of blood running down her body, pooling her senses with haze. The clairvoyant stopped chanting and could only cry in agony.

She could only scream, and so she did.

Over and over again.

...

"Lorraine!" The husband was kneeling on the ground, grasping his wife's kneecaps as she thrashed and screamed. Her hands flailed everywhere, swatting something non-existent and can only be seen through her eyes. "Lorraine, Hon. Wake up!"

He watched as she began to shake tremendously, clawing her fingers through her skin and nearly pulled out her own hair.

"Come on," Ed clutched her shoulders and pulled her back and forth, shaking her out of her own reverie. "-wake up, wake up"

It was no use, the clairvoyant wasn't snapping out of it. Instead, Ed sat beside his wife and gently pulled her close, hugging her frail frame tight. She fought against his arms, pushing it off of her and tugged on his sleeves.

But eventually she grew tired. Her fingers and arms slowly relaxed and went limp, a gasp escaped her lips the minute she opened her eyes.

Ed watched as his wife's pupils dart back and forth until settling on his blue ones, hers filled with immense fear. Her fingers shook reaching for Ed's warm ones, "Hon, what is it?"

Lorraine ignored his question and instead hugged him tight, pulling him close and inhaled his scent. Her soft sobs were muffled against Ed's chest, crying quietly in his arms.

...

The bell rang through the halls, as students stood up and rushed to their desired classrooms for the last announcements. The clouds outside were gloomy and gray, hovering over the school buildings with cascading shadows.

Lia sat down just in time as the teacher went in, eyes following the slim figure as it stood behind the long wooden desk. "Alright class," She drawled, eyeing each and every student with a sharp gleam. Her left palm rested against the hard surface, sighing when her fingers pinch the bridge of her nose. "I just recieved news from our Headmaster, bad ones I might add." Everyone was quiet, anticipating what the tall woman they call their teacher would say next.

"-there will be a strong storm coming by tomorrow." She paused, looking directly at one curly haired girl. She sat with both her hands cupped on her lap, eyes seeming without life as it stared back at the woman.

Ms. Horace kept her posture straight. She was a keen, meticulous woman for her ripe age of twenty-two. Her eyes always held a glare even when joy leaves her plump mouth. She was indeed tall with such skinny arms and legs, towering over the children with such height that they intend to lean back their head at an awkward angle.

A portion of her brunette locks came undone from the loose bun she tied it to. It had been long and relatively healthy, completing her pale complexion at a certain rate.

"Schools around town are required to close, and that include ours-" A chorus of murmurs and claps interrupted her, ignoring the first part and celebrated for the possible free time.

She stood and waited for the cheers to subside, her mouth curling into a frown while scanning the room with a glare. Her fingers made their way to her loose locks and tucked it behind her ear, she cleared her throat and waited for silence.

"Ahem," Ms. Horace tapped her foot against the hard floor, arms crossed and brows in a frown. The cheers died down eventually as the students lastly murmured before quietly leaning back on their chairs, observing their adviser.

"This is no excuse to not do your homework as you're bringing it home. We will see you the day after tomorrow, is that clear?" Her voice cut through the silent classroom with a sharp tone, she pulled a stack of stapled papers from under her desk and smacked it on the cold, hard surface.

With the motion of her finger, all the students stood and went in a bee line to retrieve their activity with a less enthusiastic face.