West Virginia glanced over her shoulder a final time towards the weak light of day, a transparent haze escaping her lips as cold engulfed her very being. The chill of winter felt only imaginary currently, the only thing reminding her of the freezing temperatures being the very cold doorknob currently in her barehanded grasp. Yes, this was indeed the place. The gloominess of this old house made West Virginia forget about how happy this time of year was supposed to be. Christmas felt fantastical from her position, the unsteady pace of her heart increasing in steadiness as a deadly calm engulfed her. Slowly, she pulled the door open. What she was met with didn’t instill the shock which it ought to have, years of experience dulling down fear’s lethal blade. A human body lay on its lonesome at the bottom of a set of dilapidated stairs, the smell of death very much so present. West Virginia had expected this sight, and was prepared accordingly for the treacherous scent of death pervading her lungs.
Her long hair swept over the upper portion of her face as a shadow formed over her eyes. Even she wasn’t sure about what she was thinking about. She felt excessive relief. What she had done remained undiscovered.
She had not meant for a death to happen on the day that she went over to Virginia’s house, a few weeks ago. Still, an argument had transpired here, and then a scuffle. West Virginia could still picture the feeling of squeezing the pulse out of Virginia, the excitement of pulling the life force from him. Against the miner, the man had not lasted long. Years of work had hardened West Virginia’s strength beyond what Virginia had anticipated when he invited her here. Even now, she couldn’t tell if he had planned to leave her lying where he now was. Had his original intention been murder? It didn’t matter now. West Virginia had done away with a state, and nobody could know.
