"Good evening, Harry," he said softly.

He smiled at her kindly as his unremarkable physique blocked the doorway. Liz stood between them, however his eyes didn't leave Harry's.

"Matt... Your back..." Dupret stuttered. As Harry turned to glance at the always confident man behind her, she was caught off guard by the way he shrunk into himself at the sight of his apparent superior.

Matt held his gaze upon Harry as if he were interested to see what she did next. When he was satisfied she didn't have the strength to charge at him at that particular moment, he let his eyes move lazily around the room, eventually falling upon his subordinate.

"Sam, I don't remember inviting you to my little party. Good to see you so willing to do your bit to help out though. Where's Ingrid?"

Dupret looked at Harry. She stood a little taller, attempting to appear more imposing than she knew she was.

Matt's lips quirked into a half smile, the copper in his amber eyes intensifying; it was the look of a tax accountant who has found the hidden dividends. "I see," he stated calmly. "And Lewis?"

"He got what he deserved!" Liz spat. "Get back, Smith, or Harry'll deal with you next."

"I see," he said again, in the exact same smoothe, serene tone he had used a moment earlier.

He broke into a laugh. The swing in mood was unnerving, and Harry found herself involuntarily stepping backwards.

Drawn by her movement, Matt sprung towards her. Harry had seen him play football with the kids at school, but in that moment, he moved faster than she would have thought possible. He snatched the base of her wrist, twisting it behind her, and angling her fingers away from all parts of her body.

He whispered in her ear, "Good luck 'dealing with me' now."

In response to his taunt, Harry wriggled against his hold. He drove her arm upwards, and wrapped his other arm around her neck so that she couldn't drop her shoulder and ease the pain he was causing her. She cried out, feeling like her arm was about to pop from its socket. He kept pushing it upwards making her writhe. She eventually found the self control to hold herself still. The moment she settled into silence, he lowered her wrist, providing relief to her overstretched shoulder muscles.

"That's a good girl," he said, patting her head in a similar fashion to the way he had Ranger's when he had dog sat in the past. From the direction his head was pointing in her peripheral vision, Harry could tell he had returned his attention to Dupret.

"Sam, I know you can't physically aid, the Keeper, against my express orders, but I do wonder just how much effort you've put into actually keeping her here? I mean, it seems odd that my two chosen minders are dead while you're still alive."

Dupret looked at him nervously, opening his mouth to explain. Matt gave a half shrug to silence him. "You can make it up to me now, don't worry. Dispose of the red head." he said non-chalantly, as if he'd asked Dupret to make him a sandwich.

"No!" Harry screamed fighting to get free again, and failing abysmally. She tried to ignore the pain, hoping that if she writhed hard enough, she would knock him off balance and be able to save her friend.

He once again wrenched her arm up, effectively immobilising her in one movement. She couldn't do anything, even if she'd had the energy to keep fighting him. She was ashamed by how easily she had been defeated.

She looked at Sam imploringly. He looked back at her seemingly apologetic for a moment before plastering his face with disinterest.

He casually responded to Matt's instruction. "But Matt, wouldn't she be of better use to you alive? Harry clearly cares what happens to her. Don't you want to use that?"

"I have my ways to get exactly what I want from her without keeping some two bit floozy who was only good for one night getting in the way."

Sam shared a look with Harry. What ways could he possibly have to get what he wanted that would be more effective than using one of her friends?

"Kill her now, Sam. That's an order!" Matt commanded, clearly becoming tired of the conversation.

Sam's face contorted. His jaw said it was all business but his onyx eyes expressed his sadness. "Please no, Sam... Matt, you don't need to do this. Just get Sam to charm her and send her home... Please, let her go!"

As Harry begged, Liz stepped back away from everyone else in the room. Sam pulled a utility knife out of his pocket, akin to the one Troy had used earlier in the day on Harry's bonds. He strode purposefully towards Liz, who was holding a lamp out in front of her as a weapon.

There was nowhere for her to run. She swung the lamp from sode to side before throwing it at Dupret. She tried to scuttle around the couch in order to get back into the dining room.

Sam's muscular arm swiped through the air.

Even knowing what was about to occur, Harry couldn't believe what was happening. The encounter between her, Liz, Sam and the stairs came flooding back to her - "I don't have anything against Sam, actually I pretty much think he's God, but he was there and you needed my help." - yet Harry could do nothing more than watch events unfurl as if in slow motion. She would be no help now.

He grabbed her hair.

She jerked backwards as it pulled taught.

He ripped downwards.

She arched her neck and back as she screamed.

He rose the blade to her neck.

She looked at Harry, terror written all over her face.

He sliced the knife across her pale skin...

As the sea of crimson rushed from the wound, Sam released her hair, and Liz's lifeless body fell to the floor. Harry's eyes stung from the tears that couldn't escape her body fast enough. The one human who knew her secret and who had been her friend was gone. And it was all Harry's fault.

Matt leant back in towards her. His breath was hot in her ear and she could feel the edge of his lip against her skin.

"Now you know when I decide I'm going to do something, I don't back down... Don't ever think I'm bluffing!"

Looking back up at Dupret, Matt's mood lightened once more.

"Let's get this mess cleaned up, and let's get started. I'm eager to get this done."