"C'mon!" Mike calls.
"Slow down!" I yell after him, scrambling to pedal faster to catch up to him. He just ignores me, biking faster down the road, toward the house. It's such a nice summer day, a day in which nothing could go wrong.
But by the time I catch up to him, he's disappeared into the house, leaving his bike lying on its side, the back tire still spinning.
I move to follow him when the dream changes and I'm standing in my living room. It's a mess, the couches torn up, books thrown across the room.
"Mike?" I call apprehensively as I walk around the house. There's no one here. That's strange.
A blow hits me out of nowhere, making me gasp. I only barely register that I've been stabbed, warm blood trickling down my front from where the knife has been lodged in my stomach, the handle glowing blue. Neca. Kill.
"I've been searching for you," a voice sneers. I try to breathe through the pain, struggling to get to my feet. The man is older, graying, his cruel eyes twinkling at us. In his right hand is a knife, identical to the one he stabbed me with, glowing blue with the same word. But this one is pressed against Mike's throat.
"Leave him alone," I rasp.
He simply laughs at me. "Why would I do that?" He asks. "Don't you know how hard warlocks like you are to find?" His words send chills down my spine. We had been warned before of these people. These hunters. Humans who tried to kill us for being more powerful. I try to summon my magic, but the loss of blood makes my head spin. Panic fills me as I struggle to reach my power, but I can't.
"You should be dead by now," the man mutters. "How are you doing this?" I look down to see a spiderweb of blue cracks appearing in my skin, glowing strangely. They pulse spreading across my skin, the pain following, but somehow, I'm still alive, even as the glowing blue reaches my heart.
"Let him go." I'm begging now. "Please. You can kill me. Just let him go."
"I don't think so," the man sneers. "For the Light King!" He crows as he slices the knife across my brother's throat. In a flash of blue, scarlet blood spills out, too much of it, until it's too late, even as I struggle to reach him.
I jolt awake, sitting up straight in my bed, gasping. The drapes on my window flutter slightly, revealing the still dark sky. I check my clock, realizing it's five in the morning. I only slept for a few hours then.
I lean my head into my hands, the memories flashing by. The man looming over me as I struggled to reach my brother, knife gleaming in his hand ready to take my life too. The frustration, anger as I tried to defend him and failed. The way my anger finally exploded, through the pain radiating through my whole body. I didn't have to utter a word, a spell, anything. The magic exploded, sending shockwaves of fire rang through the room. How the man screamed, flames melting his skin, flesh peeling off his bones until he was dead as well.
But none of it matters because Mike is dead. And it's my fault.
The tears come, stinging my face. I take in a shuddering breath then another. I wish I could just forget everything. I try to muffle my sobs, knowing how thin the walls are. I don't want to wake Alex and Jack, let them know that I'm really not okay, no matter how much I pretend that I am. As much I want to scream that I need their help, wave a sign saying HELP ME in bold letters, I push everything down. I don't want them to worry about me. They think I'm okay, and that's all they need to know.
But the anger and grief are too strong, waves and waves crashing through me as I bury my face in my arms. I can't breathe, my head swimming with darkness, the only sound in the room is my heart pounding in my ears, quick and fast. A reminder that I'm alive and he's not.
I've never used it before, but I know what it is. VN, that's what it's called. It's illegal, obviously, everyone knows that. Highly addictive and powerful. But I've heard that it helps. And right now, I'll give anything, literally anything for the memories to vanish. I'll give anything for the feelings to go away, give anything for it to all be replaced with a gray numbness because feeling nothing is better than feeling way too much at the same time.
As I tiptoe down the hallway, some part of me screams at me to turn back, to stop at Jack and Alex's door instead. But I pass their door without a sound. It's just one time, the other part argues. Just once. Then I'll never do it again. I just need it for tonight. That's it. Just once.
I take a deep breath before I knock on the door twice. My heart races and I almost lose my nerve right then and there, but the dream comes back to me, Mike's face flashing in my mind. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to breathe. I need to—I can't keep living like this. It's too much, the emotion bubbling up inside of me, screaming to break free. I need something to help me out of this.
Eventually, the door creaks open, a tired-looking Craig emerging.
"Fuentes?" he yawns. "What do you want?"
"I need—" I stop, forcing myself to take a deep breath. "I need whatever you have."
YOU ARE READING
A Choir Of The Coldest Hearts
FanficAfter dealing with the loss of his brother, Vic is spiraling. He blames himself for his brother's death, and honestly, who wouldn't? But he's a warlock who goes to a sorcery school for teenagers like him. So necromancy seems like the obvious solutio...
