The Three Spellcasters

Arrows

The silence in the room was deafening. My back continued against the cold stone wall, with Colton's strength gripping me tightly so I wouldn't escape. We looked at each other, my face showing vulnerability as Colt showing worriedness; without any words coming from our lips, Colton pulled me into a tight hug, my face hidden deep in his shoulder as he whispered in my ear. "We will talk about it later." I knew what he meant by those words, and I don't think I could blame him.

As we let go of our embrace, we all stood around the dead body sitting on the chair with its heart on the floor. You can tell Anthony flinched his body moments ago when Julien did what he did; his face is still looking down as his eyes trying not to look at corps. In contrast, Noah buried his nose deep in the book I gave him earlier. "Alex, what is this?" he asks while his eyes keep looking at the pages. "It's who we're dealing with," I returned. Noah continued to flip through the pages as I turned to look at Anthony; his head proceeded to look down at the floor. "I'm going to see how's Julien doing," he manages to say while forcing himself to leave the room. Poor guy.

Now it leaves only three. I stood still, not sure what to say or do. The silence was deafening again until I felt Colt lace his fingers with mine. "Let's get out of here," he encouraged. I nodded in agreement while we exited the room, walking up the spiral stairs and down the hallway as we entered Julien's room. The room continued to be empty like before; I felt the grip of my hand squeezed from Colt; I looked up at him as he gestured, his head swiftly to the side, leading to the exit without a sound.

Leaving the Montgomery property, Colt drove us to the After Dark Cafe. A quiet drive, I might add. We sat in a booth by the window; he ordered red-eye as I got a mocha. We drank in silence before he had the guts to speak up. "What happened back there?" I knew what he was talking about, but I thought to play dumb, "What do you mean?" I asked, dumbfounded. Colt breathed in and sighed in difficulty. "Come on, Alex, we heard what you said in the dungeon." I gaze at the window, then his eyes, seeing the maple tree in the foreground and the forest in the background. "I know." I gulped. "You were about to kill him," Colt whispered. "I just thought- I just thought Julien shouldn't have blood on his hands," I confessed. Colton lightly pinches the bridge of his nose. "Alex, he's a vampire; they always have blood on their hands."

I mean, true; he does have a point. I don't believe there is a single vampire in the world who hasn't killed anyone. But what's up with me? Wanting to kill that stranger because he is one of the members of a cult who want this town to burn to the ground? I can't let that happen; this is my home. Crack. The glass holding my mocha broke into pieces; it must have gripped it too tightly at the thought of losing my home. The coffee spilled on the table; I stayed quiet while looking at both of my hands, wet from the beverage, not sure what to say or do at the moment. "Alex..." Colton trailed off in a whisper tone. "I'm sorry," I murmured back before using my magic to repair the broken glass in front of me and dashing off the cafe, ignoring Colt and calling out my name.

Sprinting across the street, I ran mindlessly as far as I could, not caring where I was heading. Eventually, I stopped, standing in front of the forest entrance where Dex was sitting on the ground staring at me. "What are you doing all the way, Dex? Is Everything okay?" I asked as I crouched down, petting his head, him making purring sounds.

"Do you sense something?" I resume petting him as I look at the trail leading deep into the wilderness. "Let's go home." I picked up Dex, put him in my arms, snuggling him on the walk home.

I went up to my room, lay on the mattress of my bed, staring up at the ceiling, thinking about the conversation with Colton back at the cafe and what I said at the Montgomery mansion. Having blood on my hands, am I the type to do that? I'll do anything to protect this town and violence if it gets to that point but killing someone? I wouldn't think I'm capable of doing such a thing; let's hope I'm not.

My body shifted, facing the jacket on the chair, the same coat I wore in the woods when the wolves got hunted. I  got up, remembering the arrow in the coat pocket I had taken from the stranger's back. Carefully I look at the details of the weapon. The pointer is black with dry blood; the shaft is also the same color, but the fletching is a vibrant red. Being fixated on it, it feels like I've seen it before, but I have a hunch of knowing who the owner is.