𝗙𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗔𝘀𝗵𝗲𝘀 ~ 𝗞𝗹𝗮𝘂𝘀 𝗛𝗮𝗿𝗴𝗿𝗲𝗲𝘃𝗲𝘀

~ Chapter Ninety Seven ~

Without fire, the world would go cold. Without fire, thousands would die. Without fire, Dusk felt empty. Her inner phoenix had been there her whole life, it had protected her and her family from danger. But with a single flash, it was gone. All that was left was her mortal shell. She was vulnerable, unable to fight not only for herself but for her boyfriend, twin, and best friend. And if she were to be gravely injured, there was no going back. No rising from the ashes to begin anew, she'd be gone forever.

Behind all the shock at the loss of their powers, Dusk and the rest of the group were angry. Once again, Reginald had used them for his own insatiable needs. Their whole existence revolved entirely around getting what he craved. And now, he had no more use for them, disposing of them like trash. The group stumbled through the darkened streets, the only thing pointing them in their next direction. And as weeks ticked by, they were not even close to finding out where their "father" was or come up with a solution to get their powers back. 

With barely any money, they found themselves staying in abandoned buildings or run-down bed and breakfasts. The rooms were beyond disgusting with cockroaches skittering around on the ground at night and black mold growing in every corner. But it was either that or sleeping in alleyways with addicts and sex workers.

Dusk and Klaus lay in their separate bed, while Five and Victoria slept somewhat soundly wrapped in each other's arms. Five's light snoring provided some ease as the sounds of the cockroach's movements weren't nearly as bad. Dusk rested her head on Klaus's chest, feeling him stroke her hair in his unconscious state. Spending nights in gross places was just the beginning of Dusk's problems. Deep inside, everything was coming back to haunt her.

The clanging of weapons, screams of pain and anguish, and the images were just as haunting. Realizing Klaus hadn't made it through the tunnel into Oblivion, watching him cry as she had been stabbed by the guardians, Reginald's smirk as his plan to extract the Marigold from her siblings' bodies was going accordingly, one traumatic event after another. "Dusk!" an echoing voice called out, making her move her head as she tried to fight against it. But another image flashed before her, showing something glowing in her hand. Then another image of Reginald. It was too quick for her to tell what he was doing, but he appeared to be staring down at her with a wicked grin. "Please stop!" a voice cried out.

Dusk continued to whip her head around, desperately trying to escape. But it seemed like her brain was locked on torturing her. Finally, she shot up in the bed, clutching her chest as she looked around the room. Surprisingly, no one else besides Dusk could hear her panicked breathing. As she looked at Klaus, she could see he was still deep in sleep. She couldn't stand the darkness any longer, she had to get out and regain her composure. Dusk quietly crept out of the bed and tiptoed downstairs. She didn't care where her feet were taking her, as long as it was anywhere other than that room.

Little did she know that a slight creak in the floorboards woke up Klaus. Wiping the tiredness from his eyes, he looked to the empty side of the bed, surprised to see Dusk was no longer there. At first, he thought maybe she got up to go to the bathroom. But with no closed door or a sliver of light creeping in, his worries grew. There was only one other place she could have gone.

The run-down cottage they took refuge in was a fairly small two-level home with busted windows and overgrown ivy in the center of a shady neighborhood. Their room was situated on the top level, and the small spiral staircase led downstairs, to which Klaus had to bend as he walked, so he wouldn't hit his head. Passing the last step, he could see the front door had been left wide open, and as he peered out onto the front porch, there Dusk was. Staring off into the distance.