The One Who Was [ON HOLD]

His Story Part 2

A/N Remember, most of this is the dad talking, so when it says "I" it is mostly NOT Clara narrating.

My father glanced at me, noticing the sudden movement. Seeming to dismiss it as nothing, he continued with his tale.

"I slowly backed away from the car, and then turned and walked slowly and purposefully to the bank. Once I arrived at the glass revolving doors, I turned back and glanced at where the car had been. At first, I thought I was looking in the wrong place, but after searching the entire parking lot with my gaze, I was forced to come to the conclusion that it had simply disappeared. Shaking my head, I managed to convince myself that I had imagined the thing in the first place, and banished all thoughts of it from my mind. At that moment, if I had had any brain at all, I would have run and never came back.

I passed by the desk in the main office of the bank and was surprised to see it empty. Viktare, the man who usually sat there, had sent me an urgent email requesting-no insisting- that I meet him here, so where was he? I waited there for him for around a half-hour, and when he didn't appear, I made my way up to my office on the 14th floor. I let myself in with the key, and saw, to no end of surprise, Viktare, sitting at my desk. Quickly, I ran a mental review of the email, checking if he had said to met him here instead of at the reception desk. But no, I had been correct.

I glanced at him, and he stood up and smiled. It was only then that I noticed the fangs that took the place of his canines, and the blood-red cloak that fell from his shoulders to his knees, casting a shadow that was inhumanly large. Yes, it was Viktare, but at the same time, it wasn't. He took a step forward, and I, almost instinctively, took a step back. That grin stretched wider, anticipating whatever was about to happen. His hand reached out toward me, and stopped right before it got to my face.

'Foolish mortal,' he hissed with a voice that sounded like a flame crackling to life.

Then he leaned forward, and his nails scratched lightly against my cheek. At that touch, all thoughts left me, and everything went black."

He looked forward to judge my reaction, but I kept my facial features carefully neutral.

"I awoke in what seemed to be a ship's brig. My breathing was constricted, and my shoulders and wrists ached. Out of the corner of my eye, I thought I could see a light, dancing up and down, pulsing and twisting. I tried to turn my head to get a better look at it, and was rewarded with a painful jerk at my neck, and the loss of vision for about 5 seconds. When it returned in what limited capacity it had in the dark, the light had disappeared. It had left behind a burning sensation in my throat. Attempting to raise my hands to figure out what was wrong, I found that they were cuffed behind me and tied to the wall. I yanked harder and harder with futile attempts to free myself from this predicament.

After what may have been hours, and may have been minutes I heard a slight creaking noise from right in front of me, followed by someone's voice, loud enough to be heard through the walls.

'I don't care that you want him as a Tsal! We are wasting valuable time and resources transporting him, and just because you want him as a slave is not reason enough to keep him from the fledglings! They need to eat too, you know.'

I shivered, wondering if they were talking about me. I wasn't sure if I would rather be eaten or enslaved. And then the muffled sound of a person trying to reason with someone who was beyond reason. I couldn't decipher the words, but it didn't matter, for at that moment a door that I had been unable to see before opened, and light flooded the room. I flinched, and instinctively tried to raise my hands to shield my eyes, and gasped in pain as my shoulder was nearly yanked out of its socket.

A cold cruel laugh came from the direction of the light. As my eyes adjusted, I found that I could make out two silhouettes standing in the half-lit gloom. One had a cloak that flew out behind him as if in some supernatural wind, and the other was half-a-head shorter than the one in the cloak, but emanated an aura of authority. I was left with no doubt in my mind about who had laughed.

The shorter one stepped forward, his shoes blacking on the hollow floor, and stopped, nearly 3 feet away.

I was breathless as ge opened his mouth to speak. Literally breathless. It was as if he had inhaled, and with one great breath sucked all the air into his lungs for him, and him alone.

'Oh dear,' he said in a mocking voice that would have made George Washington turn and run, and had me shaking. 'We have been rude. Why, whoever would possibly want to keep you chained up like this? I must rectify the situation immediately.'

With that, he snapped his fingers and the bonds on both my neck and hands dissolved. My knees hit the ground, fighting against some primal instinct to faint. I was vaguely aware of him leaning down, and moving his fingers to my neck. He pressed them hard, sending shivers down my spine. I threw my head back and screamed, struggling to get away. But no matter how hard I tried, I could not get away. Eventually, I must have passed out from the pain, but I do not remember."