He came walking to me a little closer… closer… closer… Soon he was only a few feet from me. I gasped, his eyes where ablaze. He turned and looked at me, or where he thought I was. I slipped away from the wall where I had been pressing my back against the window frame. His hands swept over the window, across the paneling to the other window. The night was pitch black, a night where you couldn’t see five feet in front of you. The moon wasn’t out and the stars didn’t want to come out and play.
"Hmm…" He turned around and continued walking in the direction he was headed. I’ve got to be quieter, I said to myself. I followed him down the hall and turned down another corridor. His footsteps sounded lightly on the concrete floors and the sounds bounced off of the cement walls and ceiling, echoing. My footsteps couldn’t be heard, not by me, not by anyone.
The guy stopped at an old, warped, wooden door. He twisted the varnishing metal handle and opened the door with care. I carefully slipped inside the room before he shut the door. The room hurt my eyes. Lights in every corner of the room gleamed brightly. I practically fainted.
The room was stone, just like the rest of the building. The stones were decorated over with posters and pictures. There was sticky-notes hanging from all the pictures. Files where spread over a table in the corner of the room, the desk next to the bed, and several manila folders spread out across the black bedspread on the bed. All the pictures were black and white, and each sticky-note had a date, time, and where the picture was taken. Doors leading to a balcony where plastered with pictures. There were heavy, sliding, oak doors that opened to a closet. The closet doors caught my attention the most. On the closet doors, there were hundreds of pictures… hundreds of pictures of me. Each of the people posters and pictures I knew. Some people went to school with me, some were my friends, and one whole wall were pictures of my mother, step-dad and brother.
How did he get these pictures? Who took them? These are my friends, there’s… I suddenly realized something. All the people I cared about were up on the walls. The people I didn’t like or the people I didn’t care about didn’t have a picture up on the walls.
"I know you’re in here," He whispered softly crashing me back down to reality. "I heard you gasp in the hallway. All the girls do it when they see me. I attract them all. You won’t be able to do it. None of the others from before have, what makes you think you will be able to?" He turned around and walked over to the balcony doors. He slid them open and gracefully moved to the edge. "You are intrigued by my knowing all about you. There are pictures of you all over my closet doors." I reached my hand towards my belt. "You don’t care what happens to you as long as it was doing what you claim you love, but you know as well as I that this is not what you love and would die for."
I wrapped my hand around the base of the hilt of the dagger. The hilt was made of white gold with a single shiny, red ruby embedded into the gold. I slid it out of its sheath soundlessly. I didn’t make my move I would wait for the right moment. I slowly moved to the railing of limestone, climbed onto it, and smoothly made me way around the half circle until I was directly in front of him.
"You’re the bravest one yet. Haven’t said a word, haven’t tried to go at me yet. You can leave, but I guess you know what will happen." Actually, I didn’t. If I failed my mission, I would go home and resume school. I would train and then come back. At least, that’s what my trainers told me. "So you are Peyton? That’s a nice name."
I finally understood. He thought I was like the others. He thought I just started my training. He thought I had no skills. He thought I was Peyton, the freshman I mentor into becoming a trained warrior. I decided to say something only Peyton would say.
"It would be nice if it wasn’t my name." I said. The guy jumped. He hadn’t expected me to get so near to him. I whispered a charm and the doors to the bedchambers slammed shut. I waved my hand and the white metal table slid in front of the doors, so if anyone heard us fighting, they wouldn’t be able to get to us, at least not through the doors.
"Well, aren’t you smart!" I whispered some incantations and shields went up. No one would be able to see us, or hear us. If and when spells and charms started flying, no one would see them. If someone fired a spell or wizards’ gun, the shields would stop it. The guy stepped back making room for me to plunge the dagger into him anywhere I chose. It meant he was ready for a fight. It meant he was on his guard.
"Not, let me get a look at you. A freshman, the freshman who killed off the most powerful senior." He held out his hand. I knew better than that. If I touched him, I was screwed.
"Or, I could do what my mentor said to do, or well not to do, and let you see me," I jumped down from the railing landing lightly on my feet, stepping sideways as his hand came up to touch me. I pointed the dagger at him, "Don’t you dare try to touch me!"
He turned to face me, or at least the direction he heard my voice from. "You’re really a great student. But what’s really impressive… is that you’re a freshman. One wonders how you got trained and have learned so much. Did they get a better trainer?"
"Well, another wonders why you keep talking and not fighting." I said lowering my dagger to my side. He laughed heartily like I was a little kid who said something absolutely ridiculous.
"My, my, my… Now I can’t fight you while your completely concealed in charms and shields. That makes you almost completely impossible to beat. Plus, if you wanted to kill me, you would have by now. You can’t kill, you haven’t trained to kill." He was right, if I wanted to kill him, I would have done so. I wanted him alive, I needed him alive. And being a senior, I had been trained to kill, and not feel anything because of it.
His lips parted, slowly moving up and down. He was speaking a charm. I hurriedly put up a shield around me. A blinding light came soaring at me. I t never came within a foot of me. The spell bounced off of the invisible, but powerful shield, and struck him with incredible force. He was flung backwards, hit the cement, and landed a blow to his head from the railing of the limestone balcony. He had fired a wizards’ gun at me! He’s got an emblem! I realized. The front of his chest was gushing out blood. He closed his eyes for a moment and looked at where I stood, raising his head slightly.
"I knew you must be good to get this close to me without being detected, but I wasn’t expecting a… a… senior. Clearly, I have… underestimated you." He lowered his head against the railing. I ran over to him. His eyes were closed and his breathing was becoming labored. I dropped the dagger and closing my eyes I placed my hand on the wound and spoke a counter-charm. Nothing happened. I repeated it. Nothing. I said it quickly and kept repeating the charm. Blood stopped flowing out from the wound and it slowly healed itself. His white T-shirt was more than a little stained. Seconds past with nothing happening. I didn’t know if my attempt to save him had worked. Suddenly, his eyelids fluttered open. He slowly moved his hand where the wizards’ gun had struck him. I pulled my hand away, but not quick enough. His fingers glided over the top of my hand. I through up charms to keep me concealed in my cocoon of layered magic. They just got faded away into nothingness. The table that was in front of the doors into the bedchambers slid back into its place in the corner of the balcony.
I backed up to the other side of the railing. I was horrified and ashamed. How could I have let him touch me? He would kill me now, if I didn’t kill him first. I had no choice. There would be death at the end of the battle. My dagger lay on the floor next to him where I had dropped it when I healed him. I threw charm after charm at him but he managed to block them all. I was much better in combat than I was at casting spells and charms, I always had been. I needed my dagger. I stopped throwing spells. When I looked at him, he was standing up holding my dagger in his right hand, pointing it straight at me. He could completely see me now. He concentrated on me, whispering a charm. I was ready to dodge it when my dagger faded from his hand. I felt the weight of added weight on my belt. My dagger was in its sheath.
"There’s a charm on it so you can’t use it against me. I wouldn’t try," He said walking towards me. Damn it! He knew I was trapped. He pealed off his shirt, flinging it on the railing about two feet from me. He pressed himself against me. I leaned back as far as I could, my fingers gripping the side of the railing for support. "Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone about this small… quarrel." He whispered, his peppermint breath filling my nose. He ran his hand through my blonde hair. I drew away.
"Don’t touch me!" I put my hands on his chest and pushed him away. I climbed up onto the railing. If he came close to me again, I could jump over him and get a full run at the door. Something hit me from behind and I lost my balance. My foot slipped off the limestone and I tumbled forward. He moved to catch me and he hit the cement floor again, only this time, I was on top of him. I was entangled in his arms. Our lips met each other, becoming close friends quickly. His lips were completely soft and smooth. His peppermint breath tasted good on my tongue. I didn’t want it to end. I went to a place I hadn’t been before. I felt comfortable and love, I felt… I felt the need to stay in that position for the rest of eternity.
I pulled away and gasped. I was off him in a hear beat. I cried out. A sharp pain shot through my back, like thousands of knives plunging their way into my skin. I fell to my knees. It came to me. All of my shields had come down when the guy touched me. The pain increased. My back was burning. Black dots crossed my vision. The last thing I saw was the guy picking me up and heard him throwing up shields of protection and silence.
Cold water came crashing down on me!
"Dad! What the hell was that for?" I screamed. My mouth tasted horrible and my dream was really unusual. It was so unreal, but so real at the same time. I shook it out of my head and came back to earth.
"You weren’t moving and I wanted to see if you were still alive." My dad held a three-gallon bucket in his hand.
"Well I’m alive! Uh…!" I climbed out of bed. I loved my dad, but I didn’t always like him.
There he was, walking towards me. He had a clear, smooth, flawless face, with broad, strong arms. I could see them through the white T-shirt he was wearing… even in the dark corridors. His stride was long, flowing lightly from side to side. His faded, blue jeans fell lightly on top of the tennis shoes. His golden brown hair curled at the tips, just above his ears and eyes. His eyes sparkled brown, though when the light hit them the right way, they had green streaks in them. His bottom lip was slightly bigger than the top one. He stood about 6’4’’. His nose was perfectly sized for his face, and came to a point. His ears were in proportion with his head. The small amount of light that came from the corridors cast long shadows across his face.
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