That night, instead of the usual nightmares, I wake to the smoky smell of burning wood, carpet and memories.

When my eyes flutter open, they immediately sting from the smoke looming in the air like a dark cloud. I blink a few times and straighten myself up in the bed. I look around me for a sign that this is not, in fact, a nightmare.

Holy shit. My house is on fire.

The lack of flames around me hints at the fact that although a fire is definitely going on, it is not coming from my bedroom. Maleficent crawls out from under the covers. Her beady, panic-striken eyes widen at me. I erupt into a fit of coughs and try to cover my face with my forearm to keep the smoke from invading my lungs.

With my free arm, I tuck Janice into my sweat-pants' waistband and grab Maleficent. I need to get the hell out of here. Why didn't the fire alarm go off?

I pad my way out of the room and soon begin to wheeze from the lack of oxygen. Damn it, what do the firemen always tell people to do in case of a fire?

Crawl. That's it.

I clutch the frantic skunk against my chest and get on my knees and hand. The air is a little clearer down here, but shit, I can not see a thing. When I finally reach the hallway, the smoke seems thicker, darker and opaque. I am getting closer to the fire.

I keep slowly crawling towards the stairs, hoping to all gods that flames are not waiting for me at the bottom of them.

Thankfully, they are not. Unfortunately, something else is. Or rather, someone.

Through the thickening fumes, I can make out the outline of a person. A small one, thin and short. Clearly, it is a woman. Some of the smoke dissipates and I can make out her face more clearly. She would be beautiful if it were not from the malicious, green glare she pins me with. A sinister smile graces her lips.

When she sees me moving down the stairs in a sitting positon towards her, I think she lets out a dry cackle, but I can not be sure over the loud crackling of fire embers around us.

I squint my eyes to get a better look at her. Long, black hair fall down around her like a oil-spill. Her skimpy clothes hug her body beautifully and other than for the evil glint in her eyes, she reminds me of a younger Meghan Fox.

"Who are you?" I croak in between coughs. Maleficent squirms in my arm. One of her claws break into the skin in between my breast, but I do not let go of her.

Her eyes turn sour and the smile disappears from her face.

Red, angry flames start bursting through the kitchen towards us and I stumble backwards. She looks at it for a fleeting moment before her smile returns. This time, she flashes a row of white teeth, two of them extending way past what is normal for a human.

Vampire.

"Run, run little rabbit," she hums, "Who knows when the big, bad wolf will catch you."

I know for a fact he has already caught me, but thank's.

I make it down a few more steps and she purses her lips when she sees the flames eating up the wall that separates the staircase from the kitchen.

I have to move faster before it all falls. Even if that means moving towards her. Before I can move down the remaining steps, she launches herself at me at inhuman speed and grabs me by the throat. I let go of Maleficent and hope she will make it out through the pet door.

She squeezes. I close my eyes, letting the memories her choke-hold triggers flood into my mind. Not now. Not now.

"You pathetic, little girl," she snarls in my face. Her long, claw-like nails dig painfully into my skin as she lifts me up.

Death's words echoe in my head.

Fight back. Focus on the here and now.

I do.

I jerk my knee up to her groin area. It works better on guys, but she is not immune to pain or surprise. She lets go of my me and I grab Janice and swipe it right at her face. She jumps back and I miss her by an inch.

The problem with vampires is that they are super fast. Like, Death-fast. I have no wooden stake or bullets to tone her down a notch, so when she lurches at me again, there is nothing I can do. In fact, I do not even see her coming until it is too late. She yanks me by the hair and throws me across the room where I land on the back of the couch.

Evil bitch.

Then, I realize she could have just as easily thrown me the opposite direction. Like in the kitchen, for instance. Where the fire is still raging. Does she want to kill me or not?

With a last, evil look in my direction, she zips out of the flaming house, leaving me alone.

What the hell just happened?

No time to think. I scramble to my feet and lift my shirt up to my mouth in the hopes of blocking some of the smoke. I stumble past the blazing kitchen, looking at it one last time. Or what is left of it.

Then it hits me. It hits me that I have enough explosives downstairs to light this town on fire if the flames reach them.

Fuck!

I turn my head to the basement stairs. I have to go down there and get the explosives. If I do not, the entire city will explode. I look again to where the inferno is still eating away angrily at the walls and floors. It's now or never, Emma.

I throw myself at the stairs, taking the steps two at a time and ignoring my lung's protests at the effort. Violent coughs hit me and I have to hold onto the railing to keep my footing. When my feet finally reach the dark basement's floor, I inhale a sharp breath. The smoke has not quite made it here yet. I use one of the walls to guide myself until I am able to turn on the light. To my surprise, it flips on. Good, the electricity is still working.

I start scrambling to find a bag large enough to fit all of the grenades, rockets and land mines I have laying around. I curse myself, knowing I should not have gotten them in the first place. It is not even like I use them often.

A loud bang comes from upstairs and I snap my head towards it. Oh, no. The kitchen wall has finally fallen, and with it, part of my ceiling. The basement exit is now fully blocked by a pile of burning rubbish. I stare in horror as smoke starts invading the room.

I am trapped.

"How the fuck am I getting out of this mess?" I yell, desperate for an idea to spring to mind.

I punch the wall beside me. God damn it!

Before I have time to fully process my current predicament, what looks like a giant pole starts rolling down the stairs at full speed until it hits me on the head. I fall on my ass, clutching at my bloody temple with a shaking hand.

The temperature is rising fast. It is like an oven in here. Heat plus explosives equals bad. Very, fucking bad. I shake my head, regaining my senses after the blow to my head. Think. Fast.

In my desperation, an idea comes to my mind. It is a little far-fetched. Hell, I do not even know if it will work, but this is my last chance at making it out in one piece. And possibly saving the entire city.

"Death!" I yell at no one. Death. I think his name, chanting it in my head as though it will summon him.

"Death! Bring your supernatural ass down here and help me save the city," I cough. Pretty soon, my windpipes will stop working.

Nothing happens.

"I know it's technically the opposite of your job," I yell again, "But think of all the unmarked people I will be killing. Now that would put a damper on your plan."

I think the lack of oxygen is starting to get to my head.

"Death!" I cry.

It is over. This is how it ends.

****

The bartender writhing on the floor has no idea the amount of self-control I have to muster in order not to wring his neck right now. The cold, damp floor of The Red Opium's basement reflects against the moonlight peaking through the tiny windows, where eyeliner boy is currently laying in a pool of his own piss.

I grab him by the shoulders and slam him on the wall. He mumbles a few incoherent things that sends my blood boiling.

"English, do you speak it?" I hiss, two inches from his slimy face.

I do not usually torture people, that is Luci's thing, but I am not above it if the need presents itself. And when it comes to Emma, I do not fuck around.

When he does not reply, I add in my most venomous tone, "You better start talking, or I promise you, I'll make those vampires you work for seem like cuddly little puppies."

"I-I don't kn-know," he stammers.

I bring a hand up to his bony neck and squeeze, "Short, skinny, black hair. I was told she comes here all the time," I growl.

I stare into his shit-brown eyes. He has been glamoured so many times by vampires that I can not even compel him. His mind is too fucked up. It is like jell-o in there.

"A l-lot of girls fit that d-description."

"She's not a girl," I grit, "She's a leech. Something you're more than familiar with and should recognize."

He just looks at me dumbly without saying a word. That does it. I grab his collar with both hands and throw him on a nearby metal chair. It clinks from the hard contact of his body and slides back a good three feet.

"Ok, boy," I grab one of his hands and extend his fingers, "Start talking, or these are coming off. One by one," I spit.

I start to separate one of his fingernails from his finger, the chipped black nail polish clashing horribly with his stark white skin.

"Owww!" he winces and starts squirming.

I pop it like a cherry and his scream reverberates against concrete walls. The nail drops to the ground with a little splash of blood. I move to the next finger.

"Ok stop!" he yells and tries to retract his hand. I notice a thin layer of sweat appear on his forehead. Veins bulging at his temples.

"I'm listening." I keep hold of his hand, watching more blood pool on the floor.

"She was here last night," he blubbers in between sobs. "She was speaking to another vamp. Told him she had big plans for someone."

"For who?" I lift another one of his fingers.

His eyes widen in fear as he stares at bleeding his hand, "I... I have no idea."

I pinch the top of another nail, but just as I am to lift it an impending sense of doom takes hold of my body. All of my sense become on high alert. I stagger back. Eyeliner boy stares at me.

Emma.