Devastation, such sights should have meant little to her by now. She's seen tons of it, but this? This was something else entirely. The main hall was decorated in a crimson shade, bodies littering the once lively room of the manor, the sight almost made her nauseous despite the fact it shouldn't. Maybe it was the feeling of seeing the place she grew up in destroyed like this, even if it wasn't her Wuthering heights. It almost made her wonder if Gretchen had been lying about this mirror world being normal.
Cathy moved further into the manor, the more she did so the more apparent just how violent what had happened here really was, and from the looks of everything, such horrific events had occurred quite recently, causing a knot to form in her stomach. She might not be alone.
Bodies, breathing so lightly as they lay upon the ground. Blood and gashes against the walls. The windows are smashed in, letting rain and wind rush inside. Soaking carpets are caked in muddy footsteps both human and animal, a quicker set followed by a much slower crowd.
Several color lamps have been smashed, trodden upon. The crunching of glass slowly comes up from behind her...
A halting, slurred voice speaks.
"You... -uldn't... here..."
A person dressed in the maid's uniform reaches out with grasping hands. Their eyes are barely visible in the slowly-decaying light of colors, but it's there: a deep, sick-looking purple.
But... purple?
