This is not the end. Only the beginning of perfection.

“DAD!”

It was Caitlyn, from somewhere downstairs.

Rage courses through my body, searing, uncontrollable.

I’m in control again.

My eyes fly open.

The black mist is hovering above me, pulsating, roiling. It suddenly streaks out the door.

I’m lying in my bed. The fireplace is cold and dark. Dust has settled over everything. The only picture on the mantle is that of Nicole and I on our wedding day. I look towards the dresser. Both the top drawer and the one below it are open. I turn and see the gun in my hand, pointed at my head.

I drop the gun and spring from the bed into the hall just as the black mist goes down the stairs, out of sight.

I sprint down the hall to the stairs.

“DAD!”

Caitlyn is in the basement.

I make it down the stairs to see the black mist go through the living room and dining room into the kitchen.

It’s moving too fast. It’s going to reach her before I do.

I turn the corner into the kitchen. The back door is open, as is the basement door.

“Caitlyn!” I yell, racing down the basement stairs.

The light is on.

I reach the bottom of the stairs.

Caitlyn is kneeling on the floor in the exact spot where I saw Katherine.

The shadowy fog is behind her, like a beast waiting to strike.

Caitlyn stands, facing the mist. She slowly turns to me. Her eyes are filled with terrified tears.

“… Dad?” she chokingly whispers.

“Caitlyn, don’t move.”

“Dad, please. Don’t let it get m—”

I take a step towards her.

The mist bursts outwards. A split second before it envelops Caitlyn, there’s a brilliant flash of light, so blinding that I have to shield my eyes. I can feel the cold swirl around me.

Everything goes quiet.

I lower my arms.

The black mist is gone.

So is Caitlyn.

I’m alone.

“… Caitlyn?”

I spin around and search the shadows.

“Caitlyn?!”

She’s not here.

I quickly check the corners and crannies, calling her name.

I run upstairs to the open back door, still calling her name, but there’s no response.

She was here. I saw her.

I run through the dining room and living room. I look behind every bit of furniture and in every possible hiding place.

“Caitlyn?!”

I run up to the second floor and check all the rooms. She’s here. She has to be here, somewhere.

I end up in her room, almost unable to breathe. It’s like I’m having a heart attack and I’m still yelling her name. I can’t keep my hands still as I look around her r—

There’s condensation on the mirror of her vanity.

The air grows colder as I get nearer.

I stand in front of the vanity and look in the mirror.