Covens and Proxies

2

POV

I'm not sure how to react, so I just sit and think. I can tell he's just silently rubbing it in, but I'm too busy trying to remember details about their legends. I remember this ones involved fire, but that's the only thing I can recall.

"Why do the pastas want to kill me?" I manage, realizing what it means that he's here.

He pauses before signing, You're a witch. Even if you only use self defence, it's still drawing attention. The bad kind. He half explains.

"From who?" I try to push him.

A group that hunts dangerous people. Like you.

"I'm not dangerous!" He gives me a look. "I don't make myself dangerous." He cocks an eyebrow. "Unless I'm backed into a corner." He rolls his eyes. "What?"

You made a professional killer harmless. He signs furiously.

"You attacked me first." I defend.

He shrugs, laying back. His neck gives a violent crack, making him wince. I look out my window, trying to think of what to do. "You want to sleep?"

He shakes his head before lazily signing, I don't sleep in my victim's home.

"I'm not your victim." I half growl, earning a snarl and glare from him. I sigh. "Well I want some sleep. So please get off of my bed."

He watches me before slipping onto the floor and signs, I'll be awake all night. So don't try anything.

We both know he can't hurt me, so I'm not worried about being murdered in my sleep. I smile. "Don't worry. I don't really like hurting people." I offer as a truce. "Is there anything I can get you? Water? Maybe something small to eat?" I ask as I arrange my bed.

He thinks. Water would be nice.

I smile and head to the kitchen. Filling up a cup, I hesitate. There's a number of more permanent curses I could infuse into the drink that will work until I say otherwise. Spells that would knock him out in seconds.

I shake the thought from my head before walking back to the room and sit down, handing him the drink. He pulls down his scarf, smelling the drink. I stare at his cheek, shredded open to show his molars. It fascinates me, but I don't say anything about it. Scars like that are usually hidden for a reason.

He dips a finger in and licks it, tasting it before downing the glass. He gives a small smile and nods, setting the glass on my bedside table. I return his notion with a tired grin and fall back into the mattress, pulling the blankets up shutting off the light with a flick of my finger.

~~~

I wake early the next morning, around 5:45, and get up. Toby is leaning his side against the window, watching outside. He looks at me, eyeing me cautiously. I give a groggy smile before standing up and going to my dresser. I pull a casual t-shirt and jeans with a jacket from the drawers and start to unbutton my shirt.

I stop when you see Toby staring. It's strange. He was so shy last night, but now he seems intrigued. I smile. "Curious now?" I ask.

I've never had a problem with my body, really. It's nothing special, like a model's, but it's not hideous. I take good care of myself; watching my food proportions loosely, going for walks in the evenings, showering every night right after.

He hesitates, his neck cracking, before walking over slowly. He has a strange look in his dark eyes. It's not hungry or lustful, like so many other men. They hold a dark curiosity. It makes me smile. In college, I wasn't shy with men as long as they respected my wants and boundaries. If they didn't, well, they were never a problem again.

His gloved hands float at my neck, his eyes staring in determined concentration. They skim down my arms and up the insides, tracing a straight line down my chest, stomach, to my pants. His neck cracks, tilting his head to the side. He doesn't correct it. He's too focused on my buttons.

"You've never seen a woman, have you?" I ask softly, drawing some of his attention from my soon-to-be revealed skin.

He shrugs, pulling back when the shirt falls loose. It stays over the majority of my chest. I watch, intrigued by his attitude, as he hesitantly slips the shirt off of my shoulders.

He tilts his head and steps back, looking at me. I smile. He's a strange one, that's for sure. After another moment, he shrugs and goes back to staring out the window. I dress and am about to head out when I stop. A million questions are buzzing in my head, but I softly hush them before looking back at him.

"What was that about?" I ask, keeping my voice light and quiet. He looks over and shrugs. "You had me open. I was vulnerable. But you didn't take me. Why?" Most twisted men I've met would've pinned me to the ground, shoved some socks in my mouth and ravaged my body in a heartbeat.

He simply signs, It doesn't interest me, and those weren't my orders.

I nod. "The spell will wear off in an hour. Stay in here, please. My roommate will leave at six for work." I tell him before heading out, to the kitchen.

Toby's POV

I just go back to watching the world outside when she leaves. The moon is settling on the horizon, the sun starting to warm the sky. Shadows stand long and dark, stars slowly blinking out.

She is beautiful. Soft. Calm. I wonder why that is. Why she let me look at her like that. I've never really seen a girl like her. Ever.

Sometimes, Slenderman will order us to terrorize our victims before killing them. Usually, I just use fire and my axes to torture them, but sometimes I'll get a good look at their bodies. The urge I get... I don't really understand it, but I don't ignore it. I just let my body do what it needs to do and kill them when I'm done.

Most of the women we meet are either too scared of us to say no, or they fight and scream until we gag and tie them up. Or they're psycho fangirls and fellow killers.

But she's different. And I don't know why. She's just so calm. She's not scared, or mad, she's not even overly happy like a typical fangirl. She knows who we are. Well enough to recognize what we do. So why is she so collected?

I don't understand her. But I want to. Badly. I failed to kill her, and I failed to return on time. But that's not my main concern. What I'm really worried about is that... I don't want to kill her. I really, really don't want her to die. Not yet, that is.

I want to understand her.

I'm going to spare her.