Admist his screams, the pack's collective howl echoed through the forest as fire burned him, a haunting reminder of the consequences of betrayal. Jodie watched as smoke bellowed up into the air from her bedroom window. It smelled of roasted meat—Coby's roasted meat. He was dying. Soon to be gone with his madness and messed up ideologies.
She tried but couldn't find it within herself to feel sorry as she watched him. He'd tried to kill her after all. He knew she was in the cabin with Viola, yet threw the Molotov like the goddamned psychopath he was. She moved away from the window and started pacing around her bedroom. Annoyingly, he'd also accused her of being a witch before everyone. It was only a matter of time, give or take a few hours before they started picking out the pieces of his confessions. Viola had come to her defense, but did it even matter? By now everyone saw how close they were.
