Run With The Wicked

Chapter 4: Insane

The above image is of Zeke

A what?" I furrowed my brow. Zeke slowly rose from his chair and made his way over to the window. He slid the usually sticky panel open with ease, allowing the bird to hop inside. Moon beams stretched across the carpet and furniture, causing an eerie half shadow effect over Zeke's stern features. Once the bird settled, he continued, glancing up from his palms.

Zeke licked his lips.
"They're called Elites." Tentatively he leant over and reached for a small figurine that was placed on the chest of drawers adjacent to him. I stared at him, dumbfounded.

Zeke didn't seem fazed by the untidy state of my dorm room. Clothes and books were strewn about, and two large old teddy bears sat on end of my bed. I was just thankful I hadn't left any unmentionables lying around for eyes to wander.

"I have no idea what that is. " Zeke breathed deeply

"Elites are a very powerful kind of witch; they contain abilities only some of us could dream of." He elaborated.

I chewed my lip. First after witnessing a blood sacrifice and told I was a witch, Zeke had decided to further flood my mind with legacies about special witches. I had decided that he must be undeniably insane. I raised a sceptical eyebrow.

"Abilities?" I questioned.
"Yes. Elites can have abilities ranging from telekinesis, psychokinesis, Fire throwing and even dimension jumping." These all sounded like fancy names in code for telling me that I was pretty much screwed.

I tried to speak a quiet as I could, because if the headmaster caught us in the same dorm there would be severe consequences, and I didn't particularly feel like scrubbing dirty dish trays in the cafeteria

Jumping to conclusions, I tried instinctively not to think of anything I wouldn't want anyone to know. Specifically trying to hide the memory of a cheeky spring fling that occurred the previous year.

"You can read my mind?" I tensed up. Zeke chuckled, clearly amused. 

"No, that's one of the few things I can't do." He said, crossing his arms as he did so.

"So what can you do?"
"That's another discussion for another day." 

His obvious deflection of the subject had me guessing as to what he really could do. Since I had no idea about the things Zeke was claiming to be true, I had no idea about the limits of his powers. His physical attractions working against me were evident, but as for the extent of his emotional and even magical effects were yet to be decided.

I tilted my head, staring at his deluded but stunning magnificence. Up close his features were much more defined that I had originally thought. His alabaster skin was held tightly across his chin, forming a little crease. Dark stubble began to push through his skin like tiny needles, and his dark smouldering eyes were framed by long thick eyelashes.

He was truly a sight to behold.

I must have been gawking at him, because he stared back blatantly. Zeke must have stood at just over six foot tall, making me seem like a blonde oompa-loompa in comparison since could easily be told as average height.

"Stop looking at me like I'm mental."

"You are mental." I snapped.

I stood from my sitting position on my bed, and settled for a meaningless pace around the small space of the dorm room, my boots making a faint thud against the floor. I whirled around and crossed my arms at Zeke in finality.

"I told you, I'm not a witch." I stammered.

I imagined pointy hats, green faces and warty chins, something that would resemble a cheesy overdone Halloween costume. I was in no way green and warty; still I looked over my body for any signs.