#*ooc: um so OOPS......... i tried to keep this short then felt like the scene needed to be set and then i just wrote this

[advertisesouls]

[ @praeteritus-memories || plotted starter! ]

They say that soulmates can sense when their other half is no longer a part of this world.

Perhaps that's why, as she was preparing yet another delicious meal for them (with a special portion of their latest victim mixed in for good measure), all she could feel is a suffocating grip around her heart that causes the plate in her hand to drop and shatter to the floor beneath her and her knees to give out from underneath her. Dread shortly sets in as well, wrapping around her tightly like an unwelcome embrace from her worst enemy. This is something that she hasn't experienced at all, and for all of these emotions to be surging forth at once is completely overwhelming, almost to the point where she can barely even think.

No, this couldn't be it, could it—? Had their luck finally run out...?

What other explanation could there possibly be, though? Alastor hadn't returned home when he said he would, and while she assumed he'd be home soon, it's never been like this.

Hesitantly, and uncaring for the ceramic shards, she crawled over to the nearest window just to glimpse out of it. In the distance, she could see flashes of light peek out from the trees along with the sounds of dogs barking in the distance.

Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck—

Scrambling back up to her feet, she dashes over to Alastor's gun cabinet to retrieve a shotgun and—

The last thing she remembers is after telling Alastor that she loved him that she'd see his murderers in Hell, then she pulled the trigger, and...

And then there was nothing for a long time. Had she somehow entered the cycle of reincarnation, even with her list of horrific deeds behind her? (That was something she would laugh at, especially since she knew her soul was too far gone already.)

Maybe that's why her head feels like it's been filled with rocks and her body weighed with lead. A single crimson iris opens to a sky painted blood red and that's when both of her eyes shoot open and she sits up, though her weight feels... off somehow. Her back's aching, almost as if it's on fire until she reaches behind her, talons brushing against her feathers and it's then that all too familiar feeling of dread starts to set in again.

Hurriedly getting to her feet, even with stumbling a few times due to needing to get used to the fact that overall weight and physiology has changed considerably, she races over to the nearest reflective surface—a destroyed storefront's glass window to look herself over. What was once long raven hair, round hazel hues, and beige-colored skin has now changed into a deep scarlet overall along with oranges and yellows mixed within, akin to that of the legendary phoenix from the myths she'd hear as a child. Along with that is a set of haunting ruby irises, devoid of pupils.

Just... just what is she? Was this the Hell she knew she was destined for all along?

But then, as much as they teased the other about it, where is Alastor? Is he here, too? Or, if in a cruel twist of fate, was he the one sent to Heaven while she languished in Hell?

The Gods, if she even still believed in them at this point, would be that cruel to do that.

Though, it's not like she can ruminate any further on that as she can hear the sound of something behind her, which causes her to clumsily grab at a snapped pole, itself clattering to the ground beneath her as she's not used to her talons quite yet.

Well, shit. Maybe she can run—? (Oh, and make herself look like a fool in the process, too, what with needing to support herself against the wall right now.)

Either way, whatever kind of hell this was, she could still fight to live another day, and as she pushes off the wall, she nearly trips over her own feet before trying to run to whatever resembled safety.

...That is if there is any safety to be had in a place like this.