[center][h2][b]Ophelia[/b][/h2][/center]

Ophelia continued her morbid work rapidly and efficiently, quickly locating a suitable glass vessel nearby to store the plucked eyeball within--she looked around, at the little Messengers, at the scrawled text on the chalkboard, at the door. That bell... she turned away from the door back to the chalkboard, focusing for a second on the words before the gentle peal of the bell drew her gaze away again. A church bell... and what sounded like townsfolk. There was a gruffness to their accent, a hoarseness of the throat that sent a gentle shiver down her spine. It made her think back to the nights of the hunt in he past, and in her mind's eye she could almost hear the tearing of flesh and the gurgling of freshly spilled viscera. The corpses the Hunters left behind... they were often mangled in ways she could only describe as visceral, entire holes through the torso and... 

[center][b]"All Paleblood → Hunters NO EXCEPTIONS
TAKE NOTES!
AVOID DANGER – keep safe, no dead
Results → 1st Hunter
TELL NO ONE"[/b][/center]

Ophelia took a moment to pause, suddenly panting, as her mind whirred and wheeled in too many directions at once. That [i]damn[/i] bell kept ringing, and each of its notes struck her thoughts like a peal of thunder. How could she concentrate like this? How could she parse just what was going on here? She sucked air in through her teeth, inhaled sharply, and slammed her spear into the ground to make a loud enough noise to get everyone's attention. Rather than speak directly to Torquil and Farren she walked up to the closed doors whose handles indicated an attempt to gain ingress, and slammed her fist on the door proper in response to the outside demand.

"Oh, dearie, I don't think that's such a good idea... You see, the door's all that stands between us. If I open it, and you have the scourge..." she began, her voice becoming deeper and more guttural as she spoke. Her hairs begun to stand on end, her senses magnified, and she felt her blood course within her hot and [i]vicious[/i] and [b][i]angry[/i][/b]. The fire threatened to sear her very mind from within, if she did not release the pressure, and she felt her hand instinctively prepare the spear for its intended purpose. She swore she could feel the wood groaning and protesting against the fiery strength of her grip, the vibrations rattling through her bones, as the world contracted to this pinprick of heat. 

"I'll have to kill you, love. Do you still want me to open the door?" Ophelia asked, her head tilting slightly to the side as a little drool escaped her lips subconsciously. She [i]wanted[/i] them to say yes, she realised, to give her the excuse... but that in and of itself was enough of a shock to her that she snorted and began to question it--but the fire within would not be denied for long. She had barely considered what Farren and Torquil would do, and she blinked quickly as she remembered, but it was too late now. They would make their moves, and if all went well... 

[i]The Hunters would Hunt.[/i]