[hr][hr][center][img]https://s9.postimg.org/dgtslwwfj/cove_ch3.png[/img][/center][hr][center][youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=46rUBCewhxY[/youtube][hr][@Nallore][@Witch Cat][@Pundii][@FantasyChic][@BlueSky44][/center][hr][hr][i][b][color=9999ff]September 3rd, 2016 - 3:00 A.M. Pacific Standard Time[/color][/b][/i]

	Paranormal experts, often dismissed as knowing next to nothing, note that demonic activity is heightened at three in the morning. It is supposed to mock the significance of the number three in Christianity. And in this case, they are not wrong. This number does hold special significance, but not because of demons. No, it is at three in the morning that the bars on Hel's cage are at their weakest. It is then that she can reach out and communicate with her associate, Mephistopheles. 

	[color=red]"It's done,"[/color] Mephistopheles said simply. [color=red]"Trevor Martin died in a bank robbery. I left plenty of clues at the scene. That should be enough to startle the other survivors."[/color]

	Hel seemed to melt forward, the bars made of moonlight hardly preventing her approach. "Good. You will need to begin preparations for the leaders of O.M.E.N. If they are as formidable as you claim, their deaths will attract attention and you may have your vengeance for your fallen king."

	Mephistopheles nodded. Hel had orchestrated a plan that would fulfill everyone's needs. Mephistopheles would get the pleasure of killing each and every survivor of Altsoba. Those humans had been the ones that killed his father, his lord and master, Lucifer. And Hel, Hel could break free from her chains and bring terror to the Earth. She could restore the world to before it was enveloped in sickness, to a time before the Norse gods had been forgotten. 

	[color=red]"They won't be easy to kill. Winchesters are like cockroaches,"[/color] Mephistopheles explained. 

	"I previously was of the opinion that weakness did not suit you, Mephistopheles. Do not give me reason to revise that opinion," Hel warned sternly. 

[i][b][color=9999ff]December 28th, 2016 - 7:11 P.M. Local Time[/color][/b][/i]

	There was no chance in saving Beatrice. The flames had consumed her and the assassin gradually began to still in her movements. Eventually, she was nothing more than an empty shell of a person, continuing to burn. The smoke produced was awful and would make anyone gag. It was the smell of burning flesh in the air. Fortunately, no one else was currently aflame. It wasn't a painless way to die, but with all of the pain Beatrice had brought others, perhaps it was justified. 

	Keenan wasn't able to fight Carolina off, though October was able to continue to push through the pain. The bursts of flames coming out of her were becoming less and less frequent, as October started to tolerate the pain more and more. The shock had long since worn off and the pain was awful, but her body was doing quick work of sealing up any and all wounds. It was just a matter of getting the bullet out of her. Any internal bleeding had been stopped by the flames and the heat. 

	October gritted her teeth and nodded at Carolina. She wasn't strong enough to kill Keenan herself. Carolina would have to do it. It was everything October could do to keep herself from passing out at this point. 

[i][b][color=9999ff]December 28th, 2016 - 7:11 P.M. Local Time[/color][/b][/i]

	Aloise picked herself up from the ground, rubbing her head for a second to help with the pain. The barrier, or whatever it was, looked to only be growing stronger by the second. It was like watching a wall solidify into being, as if the people inside could soon be trapped forever. But of course, it seemed like Olivia and James had other things on their mind than the deaths likely to occur. 

	[color=00ffcc]"Aloise Zamora. Ex-Marine. Hunter,"[/color] Aloise said bluntly. She didn't want to get into a lengthy explanation and she figured that the FBI guy would look her up later. It was always amusing when people found the records listing her as killed in action and buried at Arlington National Cemetery. But you weren't really a hunter unless you came back to life once or twice. It was becoming a bit of a status symbol. 

	[color=00ffcc]"But we have bigger problems. Those people are in danger and I have no idea how to help them."[/color]

[i][b][color=9999ff]December 28th, 2016 - Frozen Time[/color][/b][/i]

	Darren's search online will find some interesting results. Anything on his girlfriend Aloise is just her old death certificate from when she was with the marines. There's nothing recent on her, aside from a phone number to contact her at with one of the many websites hunters are on. He'll be able to find the reports of the violence in Altsoba, the blog of Danica Graves and her accounts of the tragedy, the founding of the Organization for the Eradication of Necromantics, and the dedication for Owen's Field Cemetery for Darren Owen Andrews. Those killed in the Altsoba Massacre are laid to rest there. There's also plenty of conspiracy theory sites about the Altsoba Massacres--with some claiming that since not every body was found, there are still survivors out there. 

	"You shouldn't read that," Folly interjected, her quiet voice somehow cutting across the room as she stared at Darren. "It'll drive you insane." 

	Seraphina's experiments with the light will have some interesting results. With a bright light, there seems to be some reaction from the barrier. However, while the intensity is good, she'll notice that the more violet a light she uses, the more of a reaction is gained. Decreasing the wavelength is definitely getting results.

	Once Daniyal has the cloak around him, his strength is slowly being regained. It's as if his blood is being replenished by the cloak itself. But audible only to Daniyal is a small voice, an incredibly weak one. [i]"Mallory. You can call me Mallory."[/i] The voice is coming from inside Daniyal's own head, though he will also have the sense that it is somehow the cloak speaking to him. 

	[color=9999ff]"STOP FUCKING FIGHTING!"[/color] Andromeda shouted, huffing a bit. She hated working in hotels since they involved tons of upset people and this situation was no different. [color=9999ff]"We need to work together and figure this out. I like Lilith's suggestion. Maybe there's a spirit or something here that knows how to fix this...Pointing fingers won't bring anyone back and it won't--"[/color]

	Andromeda's knees went weak as she collapsed to the ground. She was out cold, as if something had suddenly began to feed off of her energy. At least she has a pulse.

	For now.