"The trial for Mark Jefferson, notorious serial killer and photographer, is being held in Portland just after Thanksgiving."

Blood soaked the floor, seeping into her shoes and painting her socks red.

"Now isn't this fun?" He asked as Max stared down the barrel.

The world stopped moving, her blurry hands flying to her head as she tried to scream out the pain.

Chloe dodged around him, moving with feline grace in a feral and primitive dance. All the while throwing caution to the wind as she read every move he was about to make as if they were English.

He fell as Rachel let go of his hand, eyes rolling into the back of his head as he whispered to his long dead sister- stuck in a memory with no return.

Golden lightning crackled off of Max's fingers as she held her arms stiffly at her sides.

"Get. The fuck. Out. Of. My. HEAD!"

The were connected, intertwined, when they kissed. Clothes were shed as they fell onto the creaky bed, blue and blonde hair flying.

Max cried out as a fiery pain erupted in her shoulder, knocking her balance off. Sending her into and out of the dorm's closed third story window, small pieces of glass following her down.

"So much power under those tiny fingertips," he chuckled quietly as he lovingly stroked the name he had carved into the stone where no one else would see: MAX. "You're going to be my masterpiece."

"It's said to be the trial of the decade, Jen- wait. Hold on... I've just been told their was an error in the trial."