Alex was dressed in dark jeans and a black hoodie, with his rucksack slung over his back, he thought he looked just like the fugitive he was supposed to be. He tensed as he heard movement downstairs, turning away from the bathroom mirror, he reached into the rucksack and pulled out a black pistol, pointing it upwards and bringing it close to his chest, he crept towards the door and peered outside. The hallway was dimly-lit, but looking closely, he could just make out shadows flicking occasionally the darkness, someone was coming upstairs.
Moving back into the bathroom, he closed the door slowly until it was completely shut, then began looking around the room for any way of escape. He stared at the tiny frosted glass window, biting his lip in frustration, he wouldn't fit. He heard the hallway floor creak, someone was close.
Not the bathroom...not the bathroom he thought to himself urgently. He inhaled as the door handle turned, knowing it was only seconds before he would be seen and then burned alive.
Quickly, he moved behind the door just as it opened. A second later, a large, heavy-set man stepped into the bathroom, wearing a dark suit that looked out on the dark creature. Alex prepared to shoot him, then stopped as he caught glimpse of the man's eyes in the bathroom mirror, they were brown...normal coloured. The man was human.
“Woah kid, what you doing with that thing?” he exclaimed, noticing the gun and Alex behind him. Alex bit his lip and tucked the gun into the back of his jeans.
“Sorry” he said, looking genuinely apologetic as he raised his palms. The man was thrown backwards by an invisible force, hitting the bathroom wall hard before falling into the bathtub, groaning and holding his head in agony.
Moving around the man's legs, he walked through the doorway and into the hallway, pulling out the pistol and anxiously peering downstairs. He could see the house door was wide open, he'd closed it, he was sure. Why would the man break in to what was supposed to be a empty house?
He couldn't have known he was here, no one did.
Swallowing, he walked quickly downstairs and into the living room, the circle of chalk and candles he'd set out remained undisturbed. Quickly closing door, he retrieved a small black leather-bound book from the mantelpiece, opening it, a small scrap of paper fell out.
Picking up the paper and stuffing the book into his rucksack, he stepped over the lines of chalk and into the circle. He crouched down near one of the candles.
“I need to leave, I need to escape, so by way of fire, take me to this place!” he whispered urgently. Their was a series of thuds as the man suddenly appeared at the base of the stairs.
“HEY KID!” he yelled, his eyes wide with anger. He noticed the circle of candles and salt, looking between it and him, he began approaching him. Alex quickly put the tip of the paper into the flame, he watched as it ignited, the words 'Blackwater'' burning away in a brilliant blue-white light.
“What the hell up you up to?” the man exclaimed, reaching the edge of the circle.
He reached in and grabbed him, Alex raised his hands, blasting him backwards just as a the flames of each candle became fiercer, engulfing him in a blazing whirlwind of blue-white flames.
He inhaled sharply as they drew closer, biting his lip as they made contact with his skin. It burned, it was agony, but this wasn't the first time he'd used the spell.
It engulfed his entire body for almost five seconds and with his eyes closed in agony, he didn't notice at first when the flames finally dissipated around him. He fell to his knees, looking around his new environment as his third-degree burns began healing almost instantly, he knew he was probably the only person who could have survived that spell.
