[hr][h1][color=#ffe0bd]Rhea Harlow[/color][/h1][hr]
[i][u]Old Raygate, Prince Ed-Field[/u][/i]

Lifeless faces. Eyes open without seeing. Bodies fallen, left in the stained grass without ceremony. And hovering over it all, a masked face. Silent, menacing. The sky transformed to a deep, bloody red...

Rhea bolted awake, breathing heavily and covered in sweat. She looked over at the clock, reading 5:09am. She sighed, hiding her face with two palms. Having woken up six times through the night, Rhea had perhaps an hour of restful sleep. It was the same as the previous nights after the festival. When the shit went down, Rhea stayed calm. But as the threat waned she beheld the loss of life in the clearing, and wept bitterly. 

Fresh tears escaped her eyes. [i]That damn festival...[/i] Rhea dragged herself from bed, had a sponge bath, and pulled open a metal dresser. She donned a tank top, crocheted sweater and sweats, casting her eyes around her house. The inside of a train container was converted into her safe house, with mostly everything made of steel. Even her laptop on the table had a metal casing. 

From a drawer she pulled out a new phone from the many spares. The kids from — [i]God damn that festival[/i] — ran to safety with her other phone, which held one contact: Charlie. She had memorized the number and plugged it in as a new contact, also sending a text:

[quote][code]This is Rhea. Are you doing okay? After we said bye, the night went to shit.[/code][/quote]

Rhea quickly created another contact. April and her had exchanged information, mostly so if April needed any statements or information, Rhea would be easy to get ahold of. From their encounter, Rhea was grateful to know the RAVEN force had such a talented, good-natured person.

Slipping the phone in her bag, along with her wallet, baton and a few cartons of 9V batteries, she slung the bag on her shoulder and pressed the wall button near the door. It slid open, she walked through, and it shut automatically behind her. From the outside, her house looked like an abandoned, rusted container. She gave it a tired glance, then headed out of the power plant. She asked for three days off from work, and Hallmark gave her a week. Time for healing, mending. Rhea decided to walk the streets of Baybridge until she felt more herself. Shake off the doom and whatnot.