As you worked quietly on the car again, a shiver crawled down your spine.

At first, you thought it was just another open door or a window, but as you looked up everything was closed.

A grim expression appeared on your face.

"So it is a dark omen...", you mumbled and let your eyes wander outside, to the mountain in the distance. "Who are you?"

Far, far outside, small black silhouettes appeared between all this white. They were many, moving fast and without having to obey to the orders of the snow. Cars.

But nobody in this area was using vehicles. At least not such that were big enough to spot them this easily. They seemed to be military jeeps, adaptable to any weather and comfortable to travel with. At least comfortable by the definition of this world.

Whoever was driving those cars must have been from far away, probably the next state or even further. Otherwise, it would have made no sense to waste so much fuel and effort to keep those things on the road.

Lowering your gaze, you looked at the wrench in your hand. Your thoughts were racing.

From far away. Another state.

It couldn't be. Your eyes were probably just playing a prank on you. But at the same time there was this feeling growing inside your chest. Your heart started to beat like crazy.

Was this nervousness?

Or excitement?

For a long moment, you just stood there, staring at this wrench. The metal wasn't shiny anymore but it would certainly be enough to smash a head.

Her head.

"No...", you mumbled and put the tool down to wipe your face with both hands. "It's been years. This can't be. They must be trespassers. What do I care? They are far away, won't find me anyways."

Suddenly, your hands were shaking and your throat felt as dry as a desert.

A wave of memories washed over you, bringing past pain and forgotten faces back to light. With a deep growl stuck in your throat, you squeezed your eyes shut and shook your head to get rid of the thoughts.

But they stuck to you, nestling in the back of your brain to keep you company.

"Fuck.", you cursed, pressing a hand onto your forehead.

Pain began to throb against the skull, making it seem as if the inside wanted to escape. All of a sudden, weakness overcame your body.

Your legs started to shake and your breath hitched.

"I hate you... I hate you, I hate you!", you mumbled to yourself, clinging to the edge of desk as to not loose balance and drop dead. "I can't go... no, I can't. I shouldn't. But I have to... I have to."

The pain stopped all of a sudden, only leaving a dull feeling of numbness behind. Now, you felt empty, like a hollow shell of your former self.

How you hated this feeling. It made you feel weak, damaged even. It made you feel everything you did not want to be. Everything you had been in the past.

But there was no turning back now. You had made a decision and you would pull through with it. If the only way to find peace was killing the past then you were ready to make sacrifices.

With an exhausted gasp, you let your head fall back, eyes squeezed tightly shut. The sensation of your own hair tickled in the back of your neck. It send shivers down your spine, reminding you that every since the accident, the sensitivity of your skin had decreased and made every single touch a torture.

You had already feared that one day there would be a reunion. But you had hoped to avoid this day as long as possible. Now it was there, the chance of the reckoning.

You snorted angrily.

"Fine. As you wish.", you reached into the driver's seat of the car and pulled out the backpack you always kept there for emergencies. "Let's finish it. Once and for all. I'm tired of this shit."

You zipped your jacket up to your neck, hiding the thick scarf inside, and put the backpack over your shoulders.

The weight surprised you, you hadn't touched the thing for quite some time and completely forgot what it was filled with.

At the side hung the rifle. There was only little ammunition for it, so you had to be careful when you used it. For the revolver there was enough ammunition, but not infinite. At the moment, the combat knife was the best option, with its serrated blade long enough to stay at some distance.

There were probably some canned goods and maps to be found in the deeper levels of the bag, as well as a flashlight with enough batteries to last for years.

Determined, you trudged towards the exit, the secret tunnel was in the basement of the main building, but before your fingers could open that door you hesitated. If you left now, there was no turning back.

You had to keep going until you reached the destination. Even if it meant that you could not return for an eternity. And that the target would try to survive.

The thought made a smirk light up on your face. Your eyes shimmered in a dark way for a moment. Your left hand reached for the knife that was tied to your leg.

Slowly, your fingers wrapped around the handle and pulled it up a bit, revealing a blade that could not be more spotless. The cold metal shimmered in an icy way as the light of day but caught in it.

"I hope so.", you whispered and grabbed the handle with such force that it swung open. "Hopefully, you will fight back. I want to hurt you, I want to slice your throat and see you struggle. I'll repay you with the same coin, old friend."

The cold of winter hit your face, so merciless that it felt as if your skin was about to break apart. A crunching sound filled your ears as you set your first step outside.

Soon, you would meet again.

Meet her.

Abby.