Seeker: Demon Killers [Fantasy/Action | Complete]

Chapter 10: Damien's Past

Tora stared at the ceiling through the darkness. The glow-in-the-dark stars she'd stuck on the ceiling were dimming. How many hours had it been? Three? Four?

Ross's words echoed in her head. They saw him as a freak. They tortured him. They tried to kill him. Damien talked little of his life before he joined the Seekers, merely that he was adopted and his parents wouldn't – couldn't – accept him. In the end, he was driven away. He would become withdrawn and upset if more questions were asked, so it was a topic Tora avoided, despite her curiosity.

It was strange to believe after all this time, Damien was fighting alongside the Seekers to keep those people safe. The very people who wanted him dead. But it made sense. Damien was such a nice boy. He wouldn't want to hurt anyone – he couldn't hurt anyone. She supposed killing demons was the lesser of two evils, because those demons would kill them and the ones they love, otherwise.

Considering Damien didn't want to kill Tora when they first met, he was definitely the most reluctant of all the Seekers.

Tora reached into the darkness and slapped her alarm clock. The lit face indicated it was three-thirty a.m. She groaned. Four hours into 'sleep' and she couldn't find a comfortable spot. All her muscles were itching to move whenever she finally settled and her eyes snapped open of their own accord. She couldn't stop thinking about the conversation over dinner. The remainder of the time had passed uneventfully, with Damien retiring to his room early for the night, looking withdrawn. It had been a while since his past had been brought up and Ross was never one for tact. If Ross didn't turn out to have special powers, Tora had no doubt she'd have joined the army and whopped the other privates' butts.

It only struck her then that she knew very little of any of the Seekers' pasts. Tora frowned, crossing her arms over her chest and dangling her legs off the side of the bed. She knew she wasn't the ideal person to go to for any heart-to-hearts, but it was strangely lonely knowing everyone – bar Carlos – had seen her earlier days and she'd seen none of the others'.

A creak from next door interrupted her thoughts. Markl was awake, again.

Tora slid out of bed, leaving the blankets to fall in a pile on the floor. She brushed her messy fringe out of her eyes and secured the rest of the hair with a hairband she found lying on the bedside table. She cussed under her breath when she tripped over her converses from a few days back. Careful not to make further racket or she'd face Ross's wrath again, she eased her way out of her room and knocked tentatively on Markl's door. The rustling stopped.

Markl didn't look up as Tora closed the door behind her.

"Staying up late again?" She tiptoed over.

"Something like that. You? Couldn't sleep?"

"No. I'm just here to shave my back."

Markl chuckled. He was sitting on the floor, hunched over a pile of folders with paperwork fanning around him in a meticulous pattern.  She groaned when she saw her folder open and pages upon pages of Ross's neat handwriting. A picture of her stared blankly back at her. Beneath that was written telekinetic and forcefield.

"You're not planning more telekinesis training for me, are you?" she said, kneeling next to him and picking at one of the pages. He swatted her hand away, continuing to add writing to the notes.

"I am. We both know your weakest point is your powers. "

"But Ross said—"

"I've had a word with Ross. She's promised to rein back on the antagonism next time. Your telekinesis needs work. You know she means well," said Markl, glancing up at last, "but she just has her ways of dealing with stress."