The Keeper Exams

Chapter One - The Urge to Kill

Sabrina Whyte

My eyes fly open. I look around me, confused. Where am I? Who am I? My name's Sabrina, right? 'Sabrina.' I let the name wonder through my head. 'Okay, my name is Sabrina.'

After deciphering my name, I take in my surroundings. I'm sitting in a brick room that is littered with desks and chairs; a whiteboard is on the far wall. The setting looks oddly familiar, like a dream I once had. I want to name the place I am in, but the word is stuck on my tongue. Oh! Why can't I remember?

I search my memory for something; anything, but to no avail. My mind is a blank slate. Suddenly, an image flashes through my head. It was a wolf like creature, but not actually a wolf. It's almost as if it...

A scream escapes me as I clutch my head. Memories flood into my mind. Pictures and feelings of me transforming stuff and things, even myself. Is this who I was? A shapeshifter? As I try to make sense of everything, I hear a noise. It's sounding like footsteps. Am I not the only one here?

Wanting to find someone, I slowly stand up. I make my way towards a door that has a small window. Stealthily, I look through the window. What I see shocks me: rows and rows of metal cabinets with locks on them. I feel like I know the word for them, but I can't remember. Then I see it, or I should say him.

He walks with a fast stride past my door, his face is contorted with something: hate, maybe? Whether it's hate or not, he looks like he's about to murder someone. I back away from the door. If this guy really wants to hurt someone, what will happen if he sees me?

Suddenly, I feel an urge to follow him. An urge to to kill him. Yes, kill him.
I want to feel his blood in my hands. Wait... What?
Horrified with myself, I stumble into a desk. What is wrong with me? Shaking my head, I hear a door knob rattle. I quickly look up. I see the same boy from earlier enter the room; his eyes glistening with murder.

"Hi." He says. That simple word sounds evil coming from his mouth. I stumble father into the desk; this time I fall over. "And to think I thought you'd be hard to kill." He chuckles. Man, I really wish I had something to protect myself with. Maybe a knife or a stick of some sort. I shuffle backwards until my hands feel a chair. I shut my eyes, ready for the end. I feel the boy near me.

At the last second, I feel an urge to survive, to fight. I swing the chair that my hand was against, surprised at how light it was. As I finish my swing, I hear a scream. I open my eyes to see the boy clutching his face, but that's not what surprises me: I'm holding a metal rod. That's when I recall my "powers". With new found hope, I stand up and face the boy.

He soon regains his composure and transforms a desk into a sword. He raises his arm and brings it down with lightening speed. I manage to dodge it, but my rod didn't. I watch as half of the rod falls to the ground. 'Now what?'

The boy didn't let me think up a back up plan before he attacks again. Luckily, the only damage he did was cut my arm. I really wish he would just stop!
Suddenly, the urge to kill comes back. I feel my gaze turn into a glare as my body wins over my mind. I don't think anymore, I act. As if I've done it a thousand times, a turn my half broken rod into a crossbow.
I bend down on the floor and pick up the other half. When my fingers make contact with it, it turns into five arrows. I grab them, then I kick the boy to the ground. I make an inhuman growl, and I aim my arrow at him. For a split second, the boy looks terrified, but I'm on a roll now and there is no pity left in me. I aim and fire. A sickening "thunk" echoes through out the room as the arrow finds its target. I then exit the room, not looking back.

It's strange, five minutes ago I was against even threatening the boy, but now I've killed him, and I'm oddly okay with it. As I walk down a hallway of those cabinet things, I think about why I'm here. 'Why am I here?'

Before my mind could think about the answer, my surroundings change. Instead of the rows and rows of cabinets, I find myself on a field. Weird markings cover it and there are "Y" shaped rods at both ends of the field. But that's not the only thing here because in the middle of the field, I see another girl.

Unlike the boy, she's much smaller, but still scary. She has jet black hair and a pale complexion. To me, she looks like a vampire. The little vampire is obviously bloodthirsty because she pulls a crossbow from behind her, much like my own. Then we stare at each other. Daring the other to make their move first. The little vampire decides she'll be the first one to attack.

She picks up her crossbow and fires, and I do the same. Quickly, I throw myself to the ground to avoid the arrow, but the little vampire isn't so lucky. The arrow becomes wedged into her arm, but she doesn't seemed fazed by it. She continues to advance on me. What's her deal? Doesn't she realize she's hurt? If I didn't have this urge to kill, I would've helped her, but of course, I wanted the blood of an innocent- if you could call her that- on my hands.
She runs at me, her wounded arm holding her crossbow and the other arm on her wound, trying to stop the blood flow. A sickening laugh erupts from my lips as she nears me. I hold out my own bow and shoot it.

The little vampire crumbles to the ground, the arrow's feather sticking out of her eye. With my cold heart, I just walk by her. But suddenly, I feel something as I near her: guilt. I see her young features and realize she couldn't have been more than a year older than me. A lump forms in my throat. What have I done? Is this the kind of person I am?