Chapter #1

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Burying the Sword of Mages into the fire alarm, I jump back just before it explodes. Someone was about to pull it, and I had the sinking suspicion that it wan't going to end well. Turns out I was right, because it shouldn't have exploded, and especially not in as grand of a manner as it did. I had that scratching, pulling, starving felling that warns of the Humdrum. Only this time, it was so much worse.

"Everybody run!" I shout. "The Humdrum is here. Don't touch anything electronic; he a bomb in the fire alarm. There could be explosives anywhere, just waiting to detonate. Actually, considering that, don't run. Walk very, very slowly."

"Snow, just use magic to figure out where they all are. Much simpler," Baz suggests.

"You've seen me use my magic. It doesn't quite work like yours does. Using my magic would probably kill us before the Humdrum can. Unless that was your plan."

"Yes, Snow. My excellent survival plan was to kill us all before the actual threat got here. Brilliant, don't you think?" he snarks back.

"Not the time for jokes, Baz. We're under attack; was that not apparent to you? We need to get the the fuck under control!"

"Look who learned to swear like a normal," he says, amused and condescending. Never a good combination when it comes to Baz.

"We all need to make our way slowly to the pitch," I say, addressing the group stuck in the Weeping Tower. Well everyone who hasn't been hypnotized into murdering their peers. This has the Insidious Humdrum written all over it.

"Think bigger," says an ominous and body-less voice. "Oh sorry, I should probably explain: I can read your thoughts. And I'm not your pathetic little Humdrum. I'm something much greater. Much more powerful. Your Humdrum is a speck compared to what I can do. Oh, and Simon, you really shouldn't think of yourself in the third person. I'll release your friends from their spell and deactivate the explosives, but you'll see me again. And I can assure you, it won't be pretty. Farewell, Chosen One. Though what was it that you were chosen for?"

With that ominous note, those who were entranced fall to the floor with a unison thud, and all signs of that voice -- whatever it was -- disappear, thin as air. I immediately sprint out of the building in pursuit of whatever was plaguing us and threatening to return. Baz is on my heels, and he crashes into me when I stop abruptly.

"Watch it, Snow," Baz snaps on instinct.

"I'm not the one who bumped into you, Tyrannus," I counter quickly, using his much-hated first name. All I get is a sneer in response.

"Where the bloody hell are you?" I shout at the sky. "And what do you mean? I don't think of myself in the third person!"

No response comes, and I fall to my knees on the pitch. Baz sits elegantly next to me, being careful not to stain his posh trousers. That's so Baz. He runs a hand through his silky shoulder-length hair, mumbling about how I very clearly messed it up. I roll my eyes. What a prat. We all nearly died and he's worrying about his hair.

Looking out at Watford, I can't see why anyone would want to destroy it. Ancient towers and weaving pathways lead way to secret doors and underground mazes. Everything about it is awe-inspiring. A shiver races down my spine just thinking of everything wonderful about this place. It's a shame that I'm leaving in less than a year. This place will never be my home again after I graduate. Every day here will be the last one like it.

Okay, focus. I've got a new monster to try to defeat, and I don't know anything useful. It can read minds, at least in certain circumstances. It can hypnotize people into doing really terrible things. It has a history of using explosives. It claims to be more powerful than the Humdrum, which I pray isn't true. If we can't -- if I can't -- defeat the Humdrum, then what are the odds of me being able to defeat whatever this thing is?

"Stop thinking whatever it is you're thinking. You look miserable. We'll take him down," Baz assures me.

"Really? Cause it went so well this time! If we can't even stop the Humdrum, how the hell are we supposed to kill this thing?" I challenge. I stare straight into his slate-grey eyes, silently daring him to contradict me.

"What were you thinking of?" he asks suddenly.

"I was thinking about how impossible this is -- "

"No! What were you thinking of when it told you not to think of yourself in the third person? Maybe if we know that, it'll help," he interrupts.

"I wasn't thinking about any one thing. My mind was racing, trying to think of ways to kill it. And, no, I wasn't thinking of myself in the third person, in case you were wondering."

"Well that's bloody useless, isn't that, Snow? This is why you do jack-shit as the Chosen One! I mean, seriously, do you ever pay attention to the details? The little things are always the most important, but then you, you bit lumbering oaf, had to be completely oblivious to them!" he explodes, losing his temper in an instant. Behind his watery-grey eyes is a fire that chills me to the bone, so intense that it feels as if it could burn whole forests with just a glance. Then, just as soon as it appeared, it's blown out like a candle in the wind.

All I can think to do is run. I run until I can't run anymore, and then keep running. I need to clear my head, and this is the only way I can think to do it. Baz is right. Everything he said was just so true. Breathing heavily, I rush up to my room at the top of Mummer's House to take a shower. A nice hot shower should help me push this all away.

Yet when I close the door behind me, I nearly jump out of my skin when Baz comes barreling into our room.

"Crowley, didn't the Families ever teach you to knock?" I sputter, still thoroughly surprised.

"Look, I'm sorry, I really didn't mean those things I said. I was scared The two of us almost died, along with half the school. This place would've been destroyed long ago if it weren't for you, so don't you dare discredit yourself for a second, Simon Snow."

"Yeah, you were just too busy worrying about your perfect hair to consider anybody's feelings. I get it," I spit venomously.

"Jesus, Snow, what's gotten into you?" he asks, taken aback.

"You have. You've gotten into me. Who's the oblivious one now, Pitch."

A/N: There's your sneak peak of what I've been working on. That's chapter one right there. I'll be out of town for a week-ish, so there won't be any updates for a while. I hope you liked it. I've got lots more coming, and some big things in mind for this fic. Enjoy! As of right now, Wayward Son comes out in 75 days!!! Whooohooooo!!! Peace out and write on.

-Unfortunate Seven

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