“Victoria?” Derrick shouted as he rushed through the house
in search of her. “Victoria!” The sounds of her yelling in distress over the
phone frightened him beyond belief and he just knew she was in the fight of her
life. Heavy footsteps pounded up the stairs as he ran to check the bedroom and
back down again. The scent of blood moved him towards the kitchen and he took
in the scene, stepping over shards of broken glass and blood.
Kneeling down, Derrick got a better smell of the crimson
liquid and bellowed in anger; it wasn’t Victoria’s but it meant someone was out to do her harm at the cost of their own safety. Dark scorch marks smudged
the walls and floors, places where she’d apparently set off energy balls and
were very telling of a struggle that took place in the kitchen. “She fought
back,” he sighed with small relief at the fact that she didn’t go down easily.
