Rayne's father stumbles into her room with an empty bottle in his hand. He glares down at her with evil dancing in his eyes. He steps forward and throws it at her. The thick glass explodes all over the wall closely behind her. Rayne screams and jumps out of her small bed.
"You little bitch!" he spits. He lunges forward, grabbing for her throat. Rayne evades his massive hands and drops to the floor. She quickly scurries past him and out of the bedroom. Rayne climbs to her feet and sprints for the door. Her father reaches out and grasps her hair with his bulky fingers. He tugs hard and pulls her down to the ground.
"No Daddy please!" she cries. She tries to pry his fingers from the end of her long hair as he drags her across the hard, wooden floor. "Please stop Daddy!" she screams again. Her pleas are pointless and only make him angrier.
"Shut up!" he growls. Her father pulls her into the living room next to the lit stone fireplace. He moves so that they're facing each other and squats to his knees on top of her, holding her to the ground. He reaches over to where the handle of a fire poker is sticking out from the fireplace and picks it up. The fiery tip glows bright red and orange and Rayne's eyes widen with terror as she realizes his wicked intent.
"Nooo!" she shrieks loudly, hitting him with her small fists. She punches and scratches trying to get free. "Please don't! Please don't!" she cries out. Her father swiftly smacks her across the cheek hard with the back of his hand. Rayne shifts and manages to roll onto her stomach. She extends her arm forward and grabs onto the couch. She groans as she struggles to haul herself out from under her huge, drunk father. Rayne wiggles free for a moment and begins to crawl forward, making her escape. Before she can stand, she feels the smoldering metal of the heated fire poker come down on the back of her shoulder. "Aaaaaah!" she screams in pain.
"You pathetic, worthless cunt! It should have been you!" He yells. He holds the fire poker taut to her young burning flesh as she squeals. Finally, she passes out from the pain. "Pitiful." He snarks. "Get up. Get up Rayne." He jabs the poker back into the fireplace and climbs off his unconscious daughter. "Rayne you dumb bitch get up!" he yells, worrying he killed her and would be hung. "Rayne! Rayne get up!"
Rayne snaps awake. That nightmare has crept in and woken her up for the past eight years. She frowns at the memory and steps across the hall. Rayne splashes some water on her face and comes back to check on Clementine. Clementine still lays in the same position, but she looks paler than normal. Rayne reaches out and strokes her cheek. Her skin feels ice cold.
"Clem?" she says, standing up. "Clementine?" Rayne begins to panic and shakes her by the shoulders. She doesn't want to admit it, but she's felt enough lifeless bodies this week to know that Clementine is gone. "Please, no." she cries. "Mr. Bayer! Mr. Bayer!" The old doctor appears next to her a few moments later. Rayne moves out of his way. The doctor feels her Clementine's forehead then he presses his long, white fingers firmly on the side of Clementine's neck. After a few seconds, he grabs her wrist and does the same. He somberly sets her arm down and pets her ginger hair before sliding the blanket up over her closed eyes. "No." Rayne states, sobbing. "No, she can't be..."
"I'm truly sorry." He says, placing his hand on her shoulder in an attempt to comfort her. Rayne shakes her head in denial and falls into the old man, weeping loudly.
Three days later, Rayne stands in the town's small cemetery again. She spent what little savings she had to give Clementine a proper burial. Rayne wasn't going to allow her to be burned and forgotten. The funeral is small. A few villagers showed up out of respect, but nobody really cared about Clementine besides Rayne. She looks around at this scene which has become much too familiar.
'What is this village coming to?' She thinks to herself. Never in her life has she seen so many deaths in such a short amount of time. Her mind wanders to the question that's been haunting her for days. 'How did Clem end up in that cellar?' Her brow furrows with confusion. 'And how did Drake know where we were? Did he lock Clem down there? If he did that then why would he help us?' The funeral goes by quickly while Rayne struggles to comprehend the circumstances surrounding her friend's death. Silently, she vows to her dead friend she will find out what happened to her. Over the next few months, things gradually start to return to normal around the small village. With no sightings or deaths since Clementine, the townsfolk reluctantly begin to take boards down from their windows and the streets slowly fill with people once again.
Rayne holds a bouquet of lilies on her way to the village cemetery. Clementine always loved lilies. It's not raining today but the sky is overcast with grey clouds as usual. Her blonde locks flow freely in the heavy wind and she hums a gloomy tune as she strolls down the dirt road in her black dress and boots. Black was her color of choice lately due to her mood. It's midday and the villagers bustle about the streets. Rayne looks around at her neighbors while she walks. She watches with sadness as families shop for bread and couples sit together on their porch, taking in the view. She longs to find love and build a family of her own someday. Instead, she is all alone without even a friend. She frowns at the thought; her heart weighs heavy in her chest.
Rayne catches sight of Fletcher walking in the near distance. Feeling lonely, she decides to catch up with him. She doesn't have anybody to talk to besides costumers at the shop now that Clementine and Grandmama are gone. Surprisingly, she's craving some socialization, cringeworthy as it may be. Rayne jogs lightly to where Fletcher's ducked behind a cabin ahead. She turns the corner to find he has disappeared. Confused, she spins around looking for him.
'Did he go indoors somewhere?' she questions before spotting Fletcher through a window on the cabin behind her. Inside, he holds a woman close. Her face is hidden with his lips pressed tightly to hers. His hands move up and down her shapely body as they stammer toward a bed. Fletcher pulls her dress off her shoulder and down her arm, exposing her large round breast. He takes it tightly in his hand and leans down, plopping its perky pink nipple into his mouth. The woman tilts her head back, feigning extasy, then she straightens, smiling, and allowing Rayne to catch a glimpse of her face. It's Adelia Giddings.