She shouldn’t be here and she knows it, but this is her last chance. The castle is silent, the ancient stone walls being thick enough to muffle the sobs and screams of those who’ve yet to make their peace with what fate has handed them. Angelina is one of those many, but feels too utterly numb to sob or scream or even understand exactly what has happened.

Because it’s an impossibility that she’s alone in this world now, because he swore that he’d never leave her…that he’d always love her.

Pushing the massive oak door open a few inches, she slips into the Great Hall, where the pungent stench of death has filled the air and her footsteps echo throughout. Neat little rows of corpses have been made, as if the survivors felt the need to organize the aftermath of the chaos that had been.

Angelina is relieved that there are clean white sheets over each body, so that she doesn’t have to see their faces. Although there is one that she does long to gaze upon for one last time…

She immediately knows where it is, being able to vividly recall the mass of redheads huddled around it a few hours before. Kneeling down, she draws back the sheet, folding it back over his chest.

His blue eyes don’t sparkle with gaiety; instead they are cold and vacant as they stare up at the starry night sky that stretches across the ceiling. Gently, she closes his eyelids, and now he seems to be in a peaceful slumber. The red hair that is strewn across his forehead seems less vibrant now, perhaps because his once fair and freckled skin is sallow now.

She kisses his cold lips, lingering for only a moment before pulling away. Laying her hand on his chest, she feels not even the faintest heartbeat. She leans over, until her mouth is just inches away from his ear, and whispers,

“Goodbye Fred.”