Jules
The bullets hit the shape where it’s vitals aught to be. It shrieks, and collapses into itself, until the shape within the fires vanishes. A dreadful feeling of cold, a chill that sinks to the bone settles within you, as every fire in the building goes out. You blink, your eyes not adjusted to the lack of light as spots dance across your vision.
This personal indulgence didn’t bring you any closer to the Cullens.