Hidden Mysteries: Soulforce

Chapter 11

                                                      Chapter 11

                                                         Blaise

“The race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong.” – Bible Ecclesiastes ix. 11

I woke up panting. Someone was here. I could feel their eyes on me. I waited until my eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness. I glanced around, taking in every detail, making sure everything was in place. Dresser, messy as always; Closet, slightly opened as I left it; Bookcase, everything in place; Big man standing next to it, good – hold up! My gaze rested on him. He was tall with a long, black trench coat – is that what it was? Anyway, whatever the hell he was wearing, it was unbuttoned, clasped over the chest with something in the shape of a diamond supported by four black strips of fabric joining to the opening of the coat. He wasn’t wearing a shirt underneath, only black pants that looked like they were made out of tough material. He had black boots that covered his feet and he didn’t have a weapon. My gaze trailed all the way up to his face. Long, straight, silvery-white hair that fell straight down to his shoulders, most likely longer than that, too, covered almost half of his face. He was grinning and when I looked at his eyes, which were purple, I could tell he wasn’t here for chatting.

 “Who the hell are you!?” I almost yelled in the dead of night, tensing up and almost throwing the covers off of me.

He chuckled and started walking lazily across my room, stopping to pick up a small pink box with two small red roses on top: a gift from my aunt in America. He examined it, rolling it around in his fingers over and over again.

“Not your type…” he muttered to the air.

“I know. My friend,” I stopped before I said her name. This guy shouldn’t know our names, yet. “she would like it,” I finished.

He mumbled something and nodded. I got out of the bed and stood up, ready to attack him if needed. He stopped playing with the box and looked at me, eyes gleaming with amusement.

“What do you want exactly?” I eyed him suspiciously, my hands itching to use my powers…or a weapon. I looked around the room hurriedly, but found nothing I could use. My pocket knives were in my parents’ room.

“Oh, you won’t be fighting me,” he informed me. I was slightly taken aback, but I wouldn’t let it show. Could this guy…read minds?

“Then…who?” I asked. As if on cue, I heard a growling. I half swiveled around, not wanting to turn my back on this creeper and saw two shadows emerging from the walls. They detached themselves from the walls and I saw them in all their, um, glory? Two small, hunched-back freaks with long, dirty and bloody claws, two small feet, pointed black ears and beady eyes. When they smiled, a row of pointed, sharp teeth with blood appeared. What the heck where they? They were black like shadows but –

“Whoa!” I yelled and ducked one that flung itself at me. I took a few steps back and turned around to see one on my right and one on my left. I bounded past it, out to the hallway and towards the living room. Knife, knife, c’mon! My dad has to have one around here somewhere! I remember he used to yell at me not to touch his hunting knife! Where the hell is it?!

I skidded to a stop in front of the small cabinet that’s supposed to hold fine china and stuff like that, but my family has always used it to keep our possessions safe. I heard the scratching of claws against the wooden floor. I flung open the doors to the cabinet and searched blindly in the dark until my hand wrapped around something metallic with a slit in one end. YES!