But. . . while the whole ordeal sucks, maybe I won’t be fired because I can help clean up with the rest of staff. I’m contemplating that idea when our door gets thrown. As in, it’s ripped off the hinges and crashes into the opposite wall.
Colossal damnation fractures the air with an aura tainted a color darker than black. An aura so influenced by the soul of this being that itfeelslike evil incarnate. Magic should not be influenced by morals, and yet this magic is teeming with imbalance.
Jullia shrieks and most of the students scream as a force walks through the door. A tall figure in a black cloak. A hood covers his head and when he looks up a mask of gold covers his face. Feline in its features and there are two slits where his eyes should be but I can’t see anything through it.
Another figure – another man – walks behind him with a controlled calculation. Raging eyes the color of a stormy sky roving over us.
Most of the students had huddled near the back rows and the rest of us closer to the door vault over desks to get as far away as possible. Even Jullia hits the floor and starts scooting away. Her lavender eyes full of pure terror and panic as they plead at me.
Despite the damnation aura feeling like it could seize my soul, I’m still sitting back in my chair with my arms crossed. There’s a sharp, pointed tug within me that fills with horror, but it is not my emotion. I don’t feel in the least bit afraid.
Stormy eyes point at me and his head tilts. Icicles freeze throughout the air as his gray eyes dip like waves to a pale blue and back to gray again. Inhaling it feels like shards of glass are slicing down my throat and into my lungs.
Excluding Jullia, I fuckinghatewater magic and all its forms.
Standing, I block out Jullia’s whimpered pleas for me to get down and face the intruders. “Rebels, I presume?”
The water mage quirks a brow and rights his tilted head.
“So much confidence,” he whispers, but his words thunder through the room. I can feel the vibrations in the ground. The frequency shifting in the air. Waterandsound. A mage withtwoelements. “So much, for someone who has no aura. What a downfall of Syngenia, allowing avampireonto their grounds.”
I smirk, and then glance at the one full of damnation. His hood covers his features but I canfeelhis eyes on me. The weight, they’re even more powerful than Professor Asier. But his aura only comes close.
Devil.
I have the perfect song I could play right now for what is about to happen. The second the mage said vampire their energies changed. Death is the only course for me to them. I can see it in their aura. Coiling tightly like a snake ready to strike.
How quickly they shifted their energy just because of what they think I am. Promising me my death.
But devil. . . that won’t be me.
Death strikes and time seems to slow when it gets within a foot from my heart. I watch as a bolt of straightdeathis about to hit me. No way to regenerate or heal from a blow like that. I’d be gone in an instant.
I twist that third key within and rip that door open right as the devil’s death strike is about to hit me. Bloodred aura explodes into the room as that death strike hits a shield stronger than any type of beings. And then, just as fast, I slam that third door shut and lock it right back up.
My aura had dominated the devil’s for a split second. Now it feels as I was before. Magicless with no aura.
Both of the intruders step back. The mage widening his eyes as he coils his magic around himself. Pulsing with a power that sharpens the very air.
I roll out my neck as I begin making my way down the row. No one even twitches as I move, taking the stairs down until I’m facing off with a devil who has control over the death element and a mage who can control two separate elements.
A measly vampire would have been dead the second they stepped into the room.
Shrugging off my blazer, I place it on the desk behind me and twist the keys of that first and second door. I don’t open them yet, but just unlocking them builds my aura past the confinements of my body. It hovers like a sheet of smoke around me and they can feel it.
“Pink eyes,” the devil reverberates. “Which red-eyed bloodsucker turned you to give you power as you have?”
The depth of his tone almost sounds familiar, but I can’t quite place it. Not that it matters. He’ll be dead soon anyway.
Taking my hands, I dig my nails into opposite palms and rip them open. My blood flows in a steady stream onto the floor as my scent billows around me. Building up my aura even more, and when they both realize what my blood smells like they both take another step back.
“A dead one.” His magic flinches and I think I’ve perfected my threatening deadened tone. “Just like you will be.”
And his magic explodes but I’m already waiting for it.
I still the blood falling from my hands and then solidify it. Rearranging the molecular structure and turning my bloodfallen into my own weapons. Pulling up the two whip-like strands, the devil’s death strike hits it instead of me.
Connecting the ends, I sharpen the other side and twist, using my materialized weapon of blood like the precious whip dart it is. Letting it circle around me in twining strands as I show them part of my blood art.
