Five Days To Go.

Savannah blinked blearily, rubbing her eyes as the morning light pierced through the blinds of her apartment. She groaned as her alarm clock began to ring, feeling as though the universe was conspiring against her staying in bed. With a shabby hair, she eventually stretched to switch it off, the clock reading 7am. She groaned and turned over, trying to block out the light with her pillow. After a few more minutes of futile attempts to return to her dream, she finally relented and got out of bed.

She sat up, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed and stretching her arms. Her apartment was small, but cozy, with a moderate-sized bed, a table stationed at the right side of the bed and a living room that adjoined the bedroom. The apartment was cluttered with clothes and books strewn haphazardly about, evidence of Savannah's lack of motivation to clean up.

She shuffled into the kitchen, her eyes still bleary with sleep, and made herself a cup of coffee with the coffee maker situated close to her kitchen sink.

As she waited for the coffee to brew, Savannah noticed the state of her apartment: clothes and books strewn about, dishes piled up in the sink, and the carpet in dire need of a vacuum. She made a mental note to clean up later, but for now, she just wanted to enjoy her coffee and watch TV.

Pouring the coffee, she headed back into the living room. Not minding the mess, she switched on the TV, her gaze fixed on the screen as she sipped her coffee.

She settled onto the couch, her coffee cup in hand, and began to flip through the channels. She passed cartoons, movies, and reality shows until she landed on a news channel. The headline caught her attention: "A famous politician dead in his home." She watched as the newscaster provided details about the gruesome murder, and her heart sank.

As the newsman narrated the story of a famous politician who had been found dead in his home, Savannah felt a sense of concern wash over her. The killer was still at large, and the newsman warned that she was dangerous and on the run from the cops. The killer's name was still unknown, adding to the sense of mystery and danger surrounding the case.

As she watched the news, Savannah heard a loud female scream coming from outside her apartment on the hallway. Startled, she immediately headed out, holding her coffee on her right hand. The hallway was dimly lit, with flickering lights that cast eerie shadows on the walls. The walls were a dull shade of beige, with peeling paint in some places, and the carpet was frayed at the edges.

She headed in the direction of the scream, her heart racing with fear and curiosity. The woman standing at a part of the hallway looked horrified, her eyes wide with shock. Savannah kept going until she could get the full view of the scene. It was another lady, lying on the floor in a pool of blood, already passed out from the loss of blood.

Savannah dropped her cup, shock etched on her face. She knew the individual lying on the floor, and the sight of her in such a state was jarring. She rushed forward to the woman's side, her eyes wide with concern. "What happened? Who did this to you? Isabelle? Isabelle! Talk to me!" she asked, her voice quivering with fear.

The woman on the floor groaned, her eyelids fluttering. She tried to speak, but the words came out in a weak whisper. "It was... her." she gasped, her breathing labored.

"Fuck" said Savannah, having a clue as to what may have transpired, though still unsure. She knew she had to act, and fast.

Her heart pounded heavily against her chest as she saw Isabelle lying on the floor, blood gushing out of her body. The sight was nothing short of horrifying, and her mind raced to make sense of what had just happened. It was then that she saw the horrified woman standing nearby, staring at the scene with a look of terror etched on her face. Savannah knew she had to act fast.

"Please, don't say anything should the cops come by here," Savannah said, her voice shaking slightly. "Promise me."

The woman nodded, her eyes wide with fear.

With that assurance, Savannah lifted Isabelle off the floor and carried her into her apartment. She lay her gently on the bed and quickly ran to the bathroom to grab the first aid kit. When she returned, she found Isabelle lying still, her pulse weak.

Savannah's hands trembled as she opened the first aid kit and began to assess the damage. Luckily, she had been involved in a program concerning First -aid treatment, and even had more lessons at the back of her mind due to centuries worth of experience.

She found bullet wounds on Isabelle's arm, leg, and stomach. Her heart sank as she realized the severity of the situation. Her sister was lucky to be alive.

Savannah worked quickly and efficiently, her mind focused on the task at hand. She used a scalpel to cut open wider the wound, and a pair of scissors to remove the bullets from Isabelle's arm and leg and then turned her attention to the stomach wound. The sight of her sister's blood made her feel sick, but she pushed the feeling aside and concentrated on the task at hand.

As she worked, she thought about Isabelle and the events that had led to this moment. They had always been close, despite their differences. Isabelle was the wild one, always getting into trouble, while Savannah was the responsible one, always trying to keep her sister out of trouble, or so she thought. It was a dynamic that had defined their relationship for as long as she could remember.

When she had finished, Savannah poured alcohol on the wound and began to stitch it up. The surgery was a success, and she breathed a sigh of relief as she noticed Isabelle's pulse stabilize.

For a few moments, Savannah stood there, staring at her sister, her heart heavy with worry. She knew she had to do something, but she wasn't sure what. She couldn't take Isabelle to the hospital; that would be too risky.

It was then that she remembered the news report she had seen earlier. A famous politician dead in his home, and the killer was still at large. Savannah realized that Isabelle must have been involved in the incident somehow.

Knowing she had nothing more to do other than wait, she steadily makes her way to the couch and sits. Her mind went far and wide. Many places and back. She eventually thought of Juan and her shift she skipped for little to no reason. Her eyes opened wide upon noticing this but then retracted once she knew nothing could be done about the situation.

Unsure of what to do with the free time on her hands, she immediately reaches for her phone lying at a point in the couch. Searching for the chat section with Cassie, she notices Cassie had already wished her "Good morning" Via text and a Coffee emoji.

Seeing this, a smile came over Savannah's beautiful face and it looked almost as if she was talking to a crush. She always liked Cassie's company. Physically or cybernetically. The chat went on for quite some time until it was interrupted by a steady dragging of what seems to be someone walking. It was Isabelle. She had just made her way out of the bed room and into the living room.

"Thank God you're okay. Did the best I could. how are you feeling now?" Savannah said, standing up from the couch with her phone still in her hands.

"We need to talk Savvy. It's important." Isabelle said, cutting straight to the chase.

"Alright, I'm all ears."