The Sun and Moon and Stars✔

Tension

"LET HIM GO," I snarled dangerously, my red eyes ablaze. In less than a second I had warped to them, ready to rip the guy apart. I lunged to attack, but was caught and spun around by the waist. I fought against the arms holding me, but it was futile at best. The air suddenly became charged with supernatural tension. Wings sprouted from the back of the white haired...Questria? His wings were a shimmering gold that irritated my eyes with their glow and had me hissing. I was temporarily blinded but when the world dimmed back down, they were gone. I cried out, panic squeezing my heart. My Beloved was gone.

Suddenly I was throwing the person holding me over my shoulder in rage and grasping the throat of a-

I scrambled backwards when I saw  who- or what I was about to rip apart. A Shadow Keeper was before me.

There was a pressure building in my chest and head, making me want to claw at myself to get rid of the static. Shadows crept and danced and swirled around me, making air impossible to gulp down. My vampire forced the shift, leaving me alone with the shadows.

Throwing my head up and arching my back, I released a scream that shattered glass, splintering wood, severed sanity. I was sure my soul was being ripped apart.

Consciousness was a luxury you never really think about until it's lost.

                 〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰

My head was clear, my body no longer aching. I allowed my ears to open before my eyes, seeing as I heard voices.

"And if he's right....no, that's not what I'm...she's different...are you sure?"

"The prophecy....sacrifice....not a coincidence."

I only caught bits and pieces of the conversation, but enough to know that number one: it involved me, number two: it was information they probably wouldn't give out freely, and number three: that whatever it was, it wasn't a coincidence or a joke.

So far, I was dealing with a human, a Questria, and a Shadow keeper. Oh and not to mention a blizzard is brewing in the horizon. Isn't this just lovely?

I waited until I heard a door open then close nearby before slowly sitting up. I tried to shift, but I couldn't. I didn't even feel any supernatural energy within. There wasn't even any darkness to step into...there was nothing.

I began to panic, my breathing becoming shallow. I snapped my eyes open and threw off the covers wrapped tightly around me, scanning the room. It wasn't luxurious or decorative, by any means. It was simple. A queen bed with dull grey sheets and white pillows, two black nightstands on either side. In the left corner, opposite of a white door, was a lamp with hooks, home to one lone black jacket. It was the only light source in the room, other than the light peeking through cracks in the door, seeing as there was no window. The walls were concrete, streaks of white evidence of an unfinished paint job.

Throwing my legs off the side of the bed, I slowly let my bare toes touch the ground cautiously one by one until I was standing. The floor was better of than the walls. It was smooth without any traces of paint, but it was cold. There was nothing worse than cold feet in both uses of the phrase.

I wasn't stupid enough to go creeping around or making a commotion. They had leverage over me; they had my Beloved. So instead, I calmly searched the room, looking high and low for any advantage. The only things I found were a cracked mirror, a bobby pin, and a wrinkled picture in the pocket of that black jacket. It was a black and white picture of a smiling girl, maybe a year or two older than me. Her shoulder length hair was flipped to the side, hiding half of her face. She looked genuinely happy and I supposed it was for the person taking the picture, but I could be wrong. Flipping it over, the back read,

"Parker Satini, 1998. My flower, my love, my heart."

I assumed it was one those mens' jacket so the picture belonged to one of them. Based of memory, I had to guess it belonged to the guy with sandy blonde hair, they looked alike as siblings or could maybe be couple.

Sitting the picture on the night stand, I put on the jacket for warmth, or maybe because I was drawl to it, then reached out to twist the door knob.

Of course, it just had to swing open then.