"What," he turned back to her, "is there something wrong, Inky?"

"I'm sorry," she blushed.

"For what?" he blinked at her.

"I'm sorry that after that night we spent together, I left."

"Is this the best time?" he looked about.

"I have regrets, more since I've returned, but you deserve more," she looked away from him, for his open, honest gaze shamed her. "I love you. I've always loved you, and I should've listened to Bethany. Tim," her eyes found his, "do you forgive me?"

"Of course," he replied with no hesitation, "I understand why you left."

"There was never another," she added, but her voice fell with a deep blush.

"Pardon," he returned her blush, though his was much deeper.

"You're the only man I've ever loved," green eyes, flecked with gold, rose up to him, "no one else ever came close. I was so ashamed of Bethany, of what people said about her, that I threw something wonderful away."

He hugged her, "It is okay, Inky."

A sob slipped out of her, and he hugged her tighter, "This is all so scary!"

"I know," he had seen shadows about her.

"Let us go," she said, forced a smile, "before my resolve breaks."

They moved towards where Diana ruled. No more gunfire filled the halls, yet the cries of dying fell silent. Marie saw the Sheriff charge forward in his stern manner. For all the misdeeds of the Van Lear, the Federals had paid a heavy price to bring them to justice. Unflagging resolve kept Rutger steady. Teeth bared, a hand rested upon his revolver.

He froze. Though the death of his men had hurt him, Jesse tore at him, and would haunt every step hence, Rutger felt numb. Unsteady, he staggered forward. "Bitsy," his eyes filled with tears, so long had it been since he'd wept, the Sheriff touched the tears dumbstruck. Carol had been so small when she was born. "I…she was," a low, winded grunt passed through his mouth, "I held her, Bitsy, in one hand."

Marie clapped her hands to her mouth, and her tears rose at his heartbreak. Something struck her, and she saw Carol had been moved. The body had been placed where one could see from the hall. Rutger rushed forward, hands raised to grab his baby girl. Eyes wide, she opened her mouth to scream.

Boom, the shot struck the Sheriff in the chest. Marie and Tim ran to Rutger's aid, but a small titter rose from the dark. A tiny, brittle hand slammed into Tim with all the force of a sledgehammer. Alice seized Marie in an iron grip, and Lance gave a good hearted chuckle.

Barnett walked out, barrel of his large caliber smoked. "I saw what you did to my men," he flashed stumpy teeth, "and all the rumors are true. I admit, you're faster than me, and I enjoy my life, but seeing you cry over Bitsy was just so sad." Diana's hard case laughed, spit on the Sheriff, and turned to Tim.

Marie tried to pull free, but Alice held her. Barnett looked at Diana, who coughed hard, but gave him a permissive wave. "Although I would prefer to just kill you," he looked at Marie, "sometimes, people must be taught a lesson."

Tim tackled him, but the man was solid. A blow knocked him to his knees, and Barnett followed up with a kick to the face. Though he tried to get to Marie, Diana's hard case beat him. Having spent his life in factories doing hard labor, Tim was tough but no fighter. No matter how much he was hit, he got up to get to Marie. Barnett finally smiled at the witch, before a huge fist knocked Tim flat.

"You're killing him!" Marie tried to pull free, but Alice held on.

"That's the idea," Barnett countered, bored, and reached inside his suit. Tim crawled towards Marie, muttered for her to flee, but blood had filled his mouth. The hulking man in the trilby hat raised the weapon.

The gun boomed in Rutger's hand. His aim was true, and Barnett grabbed his chest. Before he struck the ground, the man's eyes were empty.

"I'm coming, Bitsy," Rutger groaned, as he crawled to Carol. "I'm sorry, baby," he pulled her to his chest with a heavy grunt, "you're right! You should've left." The Sheriff brushed hair from her face, wept at the wound, broken, and closed her eyes. He kissed her forehead, "You…were so small that I was afraid I would hurt you with my rough hands." Rutger hugged her, grew still.

Alice smiled, turned Marie to face her. "It seems that the Blues shall never plague me again," Lance said through her lips, "they sought to end my line, send me to the Devil. They wept as my property danced out the last of their lives. Eleanor, she swore justice upon me, but it seems Abaddon is denied his prize." A hearty laugh rose in her slender chest.

"Your sins will find you, justice will be served," Marie echoed the words of her Blood, and features shifted. Eleanor looked at the General through her descendant's eyes.

Alice's grip slipped, "Witch of Nekyia."

Marie threw herself back, and jumped at the door. Alice stepped forward, but Tim gripped her legs. With a savage pull, Marie wrenched the Ward free.

Darkness swept about the room in a tide, all light smothered. Steel resolve faltered, and Diana let out a low moan of terror. To the ground Alice's body fell, but Lance still stood, ghost unveiled. He looked about the eternal shadows for escape. The dark slithered, whispers were satisfied, and out of Marie stepped Eleanor. She walked towards the General in a measured stride. A promise was given that, one day all iniquity of the Van Lear family would be given the rewards of the unjust.

All of the Van Lear ghosts were brought before Eleanor. Each was driven to their knees to be judged. Terror of the damned, saved for the entitled elite, twisted off the looks of high born condescension. She walked between them to the General, who bared teeth in a snarl, still unbroken. Shades rose from the floor to secure Lance's arms.

There were to be no pleas or promises. The judgment had long been handed down. Palms up, her arms rose, and at Lance's feet the ground grew unsteady, soft and wet. Bloody, hellish light burned up from below his feet, screams of rage rose up. Lance looked down, as a clawed hand seized his leg, flames licked the air. Van Lear ghosts were pulled down into the earth like the blackest pitch. Down the hand pulled Lance, who cursed Eleanor, into the pit of chaos and flame.

Gone with a wisp of bloody flame the darkness retreated with Lance. Only Marie, Tim, and Diana remained. Marie turned to the matriarch of the Van Lear family, who still gripped the revolver. Diana pointed the gun, coughed, but flecks of blood rained on the floor.

"The end comes," Marie said, and studied the darkness around her, "all of your wealth and power, but it meant nothing."

"You took everything from me!" Diana screamed but a coughing fit gripped her.

"No," she shook her head, "all your decisions are yours."

"I will give you more money than you can imagine," she smiled, though it was marred by blood, "you could buy the newspaper you worked for. It could be the sword of truth we wield, if you give me what I want. No one will ever dare mock you or your family again."

"No amount of money can stave off judgment," she turned away, and walked over to Tim, who stirred. "I have everything I need or want."

"Inky," Tim rose, "are…you okay?" He blinked, but the world refused to focus at first. "Did I win?" he added uncertain.

"Yes," she smiled, and he returned it.

Diana bared teeth, "THERE is nowhere you can hide!"

Marie turned, "No, there is nowhere you can hide." She carried Tim out the door.

The gun rose. At the edges of her vision the gray gave way to black. Velvet shadows crawled towards Diana. Laughter whispered across the air. A deep pain, which had settled in her chest, soared then fell. Back into her chair she dropped. Masterful control over herself faltered and then failed. All was dark. Heat rose at her feet.