Demon Wars [FINISHED]

Chapter 11

-Hunter's POV-

Hunter was in the underground training room, taking out his hidden anger and frustration on a punching bag.

He was drenched in sweat, and his arms and lungs burned while his hands stung.

But he loved every moment.

As he gave the bag a large, final blow, a voice screamed in his head that sent him sprawling.

HUNTER!

Ailith's familiar voice was echoing in his head, making his ears ring. Goosebumps rose on his arms as he heard the awful pain in her voice.

He ignored his slight curiosity on how she managed telepathy and ran out of the training room, his heart pounding with fear for her.

Hunter sprinted in the light drizzle. There was no one on the streets at 3am, but Hunter skidded and slid on the roads that were slippery with rain.

Two blocks away from her house, Hunter stopped to clear his spinning head.

He wasn't thinking straight. He wasn't focused. He was being manipulated by fear. Stupid. Stupid for a creature of Darkness. Stupid for someone who could bend fear to his own will.

He was now drenched in rain as well as sweat.

Hands on his knees, he lowered his head and took deep, gulping breaths.

He was afraid for how much fear and pain he heard in her voice. He was afraid of how much torment that she went through to manage telepathy.

Shaking his head, he tried to be practical. She was tougher than she seemed, she could handle anything.

Then it must've been really bad for her to be so hurt.

Hunter told his head to shut the hell up and took off sprinting again in the darkness, once he had regained his calm.

***

"Ailith!" Hunter yelled, jumping into her room through her window.

He analysed the scene, trying to make sense of everything. Her room's lights were still on, so she must've fallen asleep by accident.

It wasn't too messy, but her bed was unmade, her blue MacBook was half open, a can of Coke, her iPhone and a bag of empty chips on the table beside her bed.

He spotted her a moment later, curled up in a ball, on the floor, her face buried in her knees.

He could see her shaking and he rushed to her side.

"What happened?" he asked her, gently, over his pounding ears and heart. Calm down, he snapped at himself. She doesn't look too bad.

But he still couldn't bear to see her upset.

"M-My b-back," he barely heard her say. Her voice was utterly broken, and Hunter put an arm around her shoulder.

Ailith gave an involuntary jerk, and she stiffened under his touch, but didn't cease her quiet sobbing.

"What happened?" he urged Ailith again.

"D-dream... My b-back..."

Hunter sighed and lifted the corner of her shirt to see what had happened to her back.

He gasped and couldn't properly comprehend what he was seeing.

Her back was marked in golden, orange and red swirls and lines, sort of like a tribal painting.

The overall marking looked like a bird that stretched up all the way to her shoulders. In a way, it seemed like part of her skin was replaced with gold.