The vision still stands in front of her eyes—the blood, the knife, the body that is barely grasping for life. For many people, murder is a big thing, for Sam included. Except, the problem is that she enjoyed it.

"I don't want to be like him," She whispers, staring off into nowhere as she rests her head on your lap. The night is somewhat comforting, at least when you were together in the apartment, with the warm artificial light.

You've been through it with her, watched as people have been slaughtered, how it turned out to be her boyfriend and the psychotic chick he had a thing with. You were lucky to survive along with some others, but there is time needed for recovery, both physical and mental.

You know who she refers to. Sam went through a lot of shit in her life, starting with abandon of her father and ending with drugs, all because of the fact that her mother had to hook up with an infamous serial killer. A bit of a cliche, but still, the blood of a monster runs through her veins like a curse. At least you're here for her, so perhaps, you'll make it easier for her, or the opposite.