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Cold hands grip me under my arms, dragging me away from what was now a wreck. Metal plates from the car doors adorned the branches of the trees nearby and a small fire had started to spread. There was glass everywhere, splintering into our skin. Blood. There was blood everywhere. The metallic scent was overwhelming. And amongst the wreck, lay a motionless being. I try to struggle although the battle has already been lost. I am in no position to put up a fight.

So I let them drag me away as my eyelids become heavy and the last image etched into my mind is the skeletal remains of the car and a death is strong in the air.

With a blink, I was back in the present. I hadn't realised that I'd dozed off; it was difficult to tell when you were conscious or not anymore. The warehouse I was situated in was equipped with a small window near the top; it was too far up for me to look through. It provided basic light; in other words it was pretty accurate in informing the time of day. A few boxes littered the otherwise deserted setting and it seemed quite desolate; chains hung from the ceiling, having long since served their purpose.

Uncomfortable, I shift from my former position. I had slidden onto the floor whilst in my slumber and for a moment I remained so, concentrating on the beating of my heart as I felt it pulsing in my neck. Pretty soon, I sit up, rubbing my poor, bruised spine. It takes me a moment to struggle to my feet; holding onto the wall for support I take my time. I couldn't remember the last time they'd given me a proper meal, but I couldn't blame them. They'd been doing their research well. If I regained enough strength, I'd be able to blast myself out of this shithole and give hell to whoever put me here.

An audible gasp escapes my lips as I slide down the wall, seated so that my knees were drawn in; my head bowed, I kept myself alive the only way I could: I remember.

The sky was approaching dusk quickly; I was seated on a bench beside a tree; fairy lights were dotted around the branches and the scene was serene. There was I and only I; everybody else had things to do, places to be.

Glasses on and book out, I curled my feet behind me. I was unaware of how much time had passed until I heard a clearing of a throat and I almost dropped my book in surprise. It wasn't uncommon for me to being involved in a book so much that I forgot what was happening around me.

"Sorry," came an apology and only then did I realise that it had gotten much darker.

I creased the page I was currently on, putting the book down before I looked up at the stranger standing a few meters away.

He was tall; very easily 6'1, if not taller. His hair was black and was set messily around his face and his eyes were a beautiful vibrant green. I tilted my head to one side as I took in his appearance.

His lips curled downward in a frown as he looked at me and he appeared suddenly self-conscious, resulting in a small chuckle from me.

"How long have you been standing there?" I asked, the question past my lips before I could think of what I was saying.

It was his turn to chuckle. "Not long, I promise."

I nodded; his tall frame showed a little muscle, although he seemed pretty lean; yet his eyes promised mischief. His black-rimmed glasses sat perfectly on his face and somehow completed how he looked.

He smiled a little sheepishly. "Could I join you? I mean, the party's fun, but it's not really my type."

I took a moment to consider; he seemed harmless. Besides, my friends were in shouting distance.

I chuckled, beckoning him over by patting the place next to me as I shifted my feet to the floor.

"Christopher~ Kit Makley." He smiles.

"Nika. Nika Marlow." I respond, a small smile playing on my own lips.

The sound of echoing footsteps bring me back to reality. My senses sharpen and I sit up straighter, starting to get to my feet. It takes longer than whoever stands before me expected as an impatient sigh leaves them.

"Hurry up." He orders and I oblige to the best of my ability, which wasn't much quicker than I was already doing so. My legs struggle to hold up my bodyweight.

Finally I succeed, glaring at the figure who offered me no help whatsoever with cold, expressionless eyes.

"Move." He commands, his palm gripping my forearm as if to hurry me along.

"I'm doing what I can." I snap back with ferocity and he pauses, shocked at my response.

He responds with a glare before roughly pulling me behind him.

"Hey~ I never got your name." I pant out and he stops to turn to face me, looking at me as if I wasn't okay. I was of average height, reaching almost 5'5 but he took such large strides.

"Why do you want to know?" He surprises me by asking; he wears an amused expression.

"Oh, you know. Just trying to initiate conversation with my favourite prison guard." I mumble with mock enthusiasm.

He chuckles at this. "Xavier."

I don't know why they sent him, but my guess is that they didn't care whether a human died that day or not.

Xavier starts to sway on his feet and I know that I am the reason for it. His grim on my forearm loosens but I hold it there.

Necromancers, like myself, we feed off darkness. It empowers us, strengthening us. We almost never feed off humans, unless it's a last-case scenario. It wasn't cannibalism as such; but it was necessary if it ensured our survival.

And it did now.

Xavier blinks slowly, fatigue slowly overwhelming him as I feel his darkness flow from his sweaty palm up through my forearm and spreading through my body like warmth.

Then, like that, he falls.

His body hits the ground with a sickening thick thud and I gulp for a moment, blinking a few times to get used to the power of which I had been deprived of for a while.

Then, I step over him and blast a hole through the wall.  

  

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