Ashes to Ashes Blaze shot up, out of bed. He knew something was off. Without hesitating, the young teen rushed his even younger sister into the closet. A loud, pain-stricken yelp sounded from downstairs as he rushed to find his bat. After double checking that Mist was okay, he ran down the stairs, two at a time, then froze at the scene in front of him. His mother lay in a heap on the floor. Her once carefree purple and green hair now matted with crimson. Blaze snarled as his gaze shifted around the dimly lit room. A loud crash sounded throughout the small house, signaling where the culprit was. The teen rushed to the kitchen to find a blonde haired man with large, bright white wings rummaging through the fine china cabinet. The edges of his vision turned white as rage filled his body. Blaze lunged, changing mid leap, and clamped his jaws on the intruder's wing. It was the knife that ended it. The scoundrel raised the silver weapon as Blaze was doubled over, recovering from a kick in the gut. Without a single moment's hesitation, the thief brought the knife down, gouging out the black wolf's eye with no remorse. Blood splattered everywhere as the man carved like it was Thanksgiving and Blaze was the bird of honor. A knife slip was what saved the teen in the end. As the man went to grab it, Blaze bit down on the injured wing. The elder, doubled over, didn't even seem to notice that the teen had changed and grabbed his mother's favorite butch knife. Four hacks was all it took to rid the world of the monster. Four hacks and Blaze was covered in more blood, this time it wasn't his own. His face and hands stung like hell, and half his world seemed darker, but at least he was alive. Alive. He stumbled down the corridor and next to the stairs. Blaze stopped and choked back a sob when he saw that his mum's neck was far too mangled and twisted for there to have any hope. Still, he couldn't help reaching down and feeling that spot on her wrist for a pulse. What he had hoped would be warm and loving, as he had always known his mother to be, was cold and #lifeless. Her glamour had worn off, blue freckles splattering her skin and her sheer gold wings were left in tatters. Blaze moved her carefully to the backyard, bumping into things every now and again. He positioned his mother as if she were just studying the stars, like any other night, before entering the house. Mist was curled in a ball in corner of the closet, scared at the sight of her own brother. Blaze couldn't speak. He saw too much of his mother in Mist now that he knew that the two would never try to put makeup on him ever again. Every mother-daughter activity would be lost because of some asshole. A single motion was all Mist needed to follow her older brother. Her small three-year-old mind was racing as she tried to think of what had happened. As the two continued down the stairs, Mist caught a glimpse of her mother outside on her chair, looking at the stars. "B-Bla-aze?" She whispered, frightened at the way the entire downstairs seemed to have a fresh coat of sticky red paint. The teen put a finger to his lips before he led the younger out the front door. The two of them walked across the street to an old friend's house and knocked. Blaze felt bad about disturbing them at such a late hour, but pushed it aside as a very tired looking, pink haired, middle age woman opened the door. "Who is it?" She groaned, eyes still not completely open. "Blaze? Mist? What happened to you? Where's River?" "Mu-Mum's, um..." Blaze trailed off, forcing back tears as he mouthed the simple word. The woman nearly fainted before ushering the two into her home. "Marianne, who is it?" Her husband asked from the stairs. "Get down here, Claude. We need help," Marianne replied whilst getting warm water soaked towels for the young teen, who stood by the door awkwardly. Ty, Marianne and Claude's son, came downstairs. "Oh my god," he breathed. "Take Mist upstairs. Now," Marianne demanded. He didn't hesitate as he pulled the young girl upstairs with talk of coloring and playing dolls. As Marianne began cleaning his face, Blaze explained what happened. Claude called the healer just as she reached where his left eye was supposed to be. "Good heavens," she whispered before shouting for more towels.