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The summer heat shone down onto the glistening small cottage. It was similar in design to Abigael's home, but renovated to have toilets and electricity. Something she didn't have back in the 17th century. There was a small garden at the back of the house, but her surroundings were just fields, and nothing for miles, just endless luscious trees. Her Chambre de Chasse, her mindscape was a blissful environment. A place where she could work on herself, and wrap her head around what she had learnt from Lucifer. A place for her to get all her anger out, and punch objects if she needed too. Even when she thinks about it for too long, the anger rises, and her blood begins to boil. But this is why she did this in the first place, to keep her from going on a murder spree. And stop her from hurting anyone she cared about.
Abigael tended to her garden, wildflowers sprouting through the ground, and a bunch of other flowers that she liked over the centuries, were in bloom. She inhaled the blissful air, the bird's tweets sung a song on the gentle breeze. She knew it's been about a year since she decided to take the plunge. Once she tended to the flowers, she stood back to her feet, the white flowery lace gown, followed her up and trailed behind as she made her way inside the back door.
Once inside, she was in the small kitchen, homey and modern. But she walked on through the tilted flooring, and made her way into the living room. The fireplace roared with flames, giving off heat throughout the house. On the fireplace mantle, dead in the centre was a photo frame. It held a picture of Castiel, Abigael, Jo, Helen, Bobby, Dean and Sam. The same picture Bobby took before the day we lost Jo and Helen. It was the only picture she had of all of them together. A reminder of sorts. She smiled ear to ear, thinking back on the good times they had together. Something Lucifer could not foresee her doing, aligning herself with The Winchesters. But then again, was it destined to happen? That the road she went down on, ensured her to meet the Winchesters?
Abigael shook her head slightly, now not needing to know. Questions like that would drive her mad. And at the start of this it did. There were a lot of tears, a lot of anger to get out. A resentment towards Lucifer, towards the whole idea. Suddenly. The fireplace flames roared higher than expected of them. Without realising it, Abigael was clutching her right hand tightly, the white of her knuckles plain to see. She began to inhale and exhale, counting to five in her head. She slowly released her clenched hand, and relaxed it. Finding the flames to die down, the more calm she got. Maybe she wasn't fully ready as she hoped, but it was a start. Her eyes went back to the picture frame, and smiled once again.
Abigael looked around the home she built for herself, the memories, the good ones all around. One she could never have in reality, because of who she was and what she was. Then again, she did take extra measures ensuring her physical body would not come to any harm while in this mindscape.
Suddenly, the house began to rumble, it was a slight tremor, but Abigael felt it. She froze to the spot, eyes casting around the place, but it stopped. After a moment, the house rumbled, glass cracking before smashing, as her eyes were cast to the window, to see everything disappearing. She knew what it meant.
