Chloe knew she was dead the first moment that the girl, sitting cross-legged, across from her began to contort into her. She looked on at the face before her, smirking, with a mixture of fear and revulsion.

The First was sitting on the mattress she used as a bed, what she had been reduced to. She was going to die; she knew it and the First did too. Perhaps that was why it was there, quietly taunting her about her flaws and how everything would be simpler in afterlife.

Chloe knew she was dead the moment she began to listen.