<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'">Leaves crunched softly underfoot though her soles were carefully and deliberately placed. As she neared the house those distant noises became more distinct. The blaring music was accompanied by voices, laughter amplified in the silence of the swamp. A roaring bonfire blazed, embers like fireflies fluttering up to the dark sky. As she approached the residence, which appeared more like an unsophisticated frat house, she realized that there were quite a few shifters. The ones that stood by the fire dumped cheap beer down their throats, feeding the flames with their empty cans and debris. Her gun lowered, and her finger hovering just before the trigger, she simply watched them. They didn’t talk much, occasionally looking over their shoulders. She came to the conclusion that they were either lookouts, or waiting for something or someone. Ava sank back into the shadows along the perimeter of the house, staring into the windows in search for her missing friend while noting the number of shifters that partied it up on the inside. <br/>
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Nine, by her count. <br/>
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No sign of Scarlett, but it didn’t mean that she wasn’t there. Some of the rooms were dark, no lights to illuminate the suspicious silhouettes she could make out. Under normal circumstances she would have avoided the risk, but the urgency she felt made her impulse for thoroughness difficult to deny. Ava stowed her gun in the holster on her thigh and pressed her black gloved hands against the glass pane. She pushed, hoping the window would slide open, but the amount of resistance she felt indicated that it was locked. Not to be deterred, she moved to the next one. To her luck, it cracked; enough to wedge her fingertips beneath it. Upon lifting, the potent smells from inside assaulted her; the heavy scent of booze and cigarette smoke a sickening concoction made worse by the lack of circulation. Ava hoisted herself up and into the room, eyes scanning the mess of unwashed laundry and bare mattresses pushed into the corners. <br/>
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She moved to the door, twisting the knob slowly and pulling it open a sliver. A single green eye peered through, into the hall where shadows played on the wall from the room it led to, where the festivities were in full swing. Though she couldn’t see much else, she chanced stepping into the hall. Ava opened a few doors, greeted by filthy bathrooms and empty linen closets. She was about to open the door to another when she felt rhythmic vibrations of footsteps, voices nearing the corner. She slipped into a nearby room with ease, avoiding detection narrowly.<br/>
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“Who the hell are you?!” A voice yelled at her back. When she spun around a scrawny, shirtless male decorated in crude tattoos was covering himself with a sheet, wide-eyed and bewildered. <br/>
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“Well, this is awkward.” She muttered, a swift hand drawing her gun from its holster fluidly. Before he could bark another word she squeezed the trigger, the dart-like sound drowned out by the thumping music. She couldn’t even hear the satisfying sizzle of the silver bullet that created a crater in his forehead, sending a spattering of crimson blood landing on the wall behind him. A shrill scream, like an alarm, came from her left; from a woman who had balled herself up in the corner. “Lovely,” Ava sighed, knowing that it was only a matter of seconds before shifters were storming the room. <br/>
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She threw the door open, a man standing across the threshold receiving the sole of her boot. Her foot slammed into his chest harshly, sending him back into the wall behind him. The drywall caved upon impact, and he remained confined to the indentation when silver bullets punctured his chest. A rush of adrenaline coursed through her, roars of fury coming for her in the confines of the hall. Ava let them come, let them run at her wildly like the animals they were. The first threw a punch, and as she ducked the powerful strike she could feel the air ‘whoosh’ in its wake. Her knee rammed into her stomach, the force seizing the wind from his lungs. While he was doubled over, she raised her gun, a bullet catching the shifter behind him between the eyes and another found a home in the head of the debilitated male who was struggling to get his bearings. <br/>
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More rounded the corner, much faster than she anticipated. She tried to reach the room she had entered the house through, to make a quick escape but a body tackled her to the ground. Her head slammed against the dirty, worn carpet, gun falling from her hold so that she could wrestle against the brute strength that pinned her to the ground. </span>