VILLAIN WITHIN

 

by Ines Marhat

Darkness surrounded her in spirals, circling around her, not letting a single drop of light penetrate into the room. She was lost, disorientated, alone. Not knowing where she was, not knowing by whom she was kidnapped this time. She was furious. Sitting bound on a very uncomfortable chair she swore in her mind to make her kidnappers suffer, there was no nice way out of this for them. Making use of the long hours she had been stuck in the lone room, she searched through it as much as it was possible in her situation. She knew of her location, bound to a chair drilled on the floor in the middle of the room. In front of her was a plain table, also drilled down on the floor, empty of any items. The room was bare, but big, nothing in it except for her, the table and the chair. The many echoes of her voice, proving her of this situation, were still ringing around in her head, making it maddening to sit still in the deafening silence. She was bound rather tightly and uncomfortably. The tight hemp styled rope was put in tight knots around her lower arms and wrist, her legs foolishly let free to roam around. The more she resisted and squirmed against the bounds, the tighter they got, and Naomi could already feel the spots bruising. There would be tomorrow for sure, if she survived, big purple-bluish bruises along on her arm. Her head hurt a lot as well. The pain kept pounding on her; she was sure she was hit on the head and knocked out. Naomi wondered long and hard about this, but for some reason couldn’t come to a conclusion. She couldn’t remember the past two weeks of her life. She knew she was strong, very strong. Strong enough so not just anyone could have knocked her out. The person that did it had to have immense power. She wondered if that would be Master Julius, the one that has been after her for quite a while now. Or maybe it was Master Zello, the perverted maniac. Naomi denied that thoughts after a while. Her situation was nothing even remotely close to Julius’s or Zello’s style. It was more of a situation an amateur would come up with. A very good, skilled amateur, but still just that – an amateur. Naomi was positive she could get out of this situation in no time, run away and go back to hunting. But her curiosity just wouldn’t allow it. She needed to know who was skilled enough to kidnap her and to make such a clean hit she could not remember anything of two weeks’ time.  The person must have been an amazing Mnemokinesis user, a memory control user. That thought scared her a lot. If someone was in her mind, there was variety of things they could have found out about her. So many secrets and dark places, she would have been lying if she said that fear did not shake her in the moment she thought of that. Mnemokinesis, also known as memory control, was not something to take lightly, even though it does not sound like a big force to be reckoned with. Mnemokinesis is a sub-power of mental manipulation, a power that could only be acquired through genes, making it impossible to learn, no matter how high in position you were, or how strong you were. It was impossible, and people learned that a long time ago. Mnemokinesis user is allowed to control ones memories as they wish. Basically it means they get in your mind and play with your memory like a kid would play with puzzles, rearranging them, putting the wrong pieces together, losing some pieces, and colouring over the rest. There was almost no way to know if a power of that sort was used on you as the user was almost always correct to not leave any traces of the magic behind. There were still signs left that something was wrong though, signs that might take years to notice. Of course it was harder to get in the minds of the stronger people as they had them trained heavily to make sure such accordance never happens. Naomi was nothing different, and although she was unconscious for about two weeks (if her memory had served her well), she put aside the thought of Mnemokinesis user entering her mind as she could not bear it. In the end she decided that her attacker, and maybe even kidnapper, had used a prop – shadow camouflage. The Shadow camouflage was a special tool, acquirable anywhere on the black market if put enough money into it. Naomi was in the end sure that her attacker had used this to hide in the shadows and catch her off guard, at her weakest, when she was hunting her own pray. Naomi had to admit that if that was the case, her attacker was rather clever. Amateur or not, he had potential. She had decided she might even take him in under her guidance if deemed worthy. After some more of the torturously boring waiting a man finally entered the room, the light of the outside world projecting a shadow of a silhouette. Naomi flinched back from the light, not used of it after 2 weeks of pure darkness. Once she was finally able to focus once again she took a closer look at the lone shadow still standing at the door, the shadow was observing her as much as she was observing them. The figure was tall and slim; from the bulky build Naomi was able to conclude that the figure was a man. Besides him stood a much shorter, timid figure that was slightly hiding behind the strong one. He was clearly afraid, and a bit clumsy, stumbling over his or hers own legs after the taller figure. “Who the hell are you?” Naomi demanded as soon as she was done observing them both. Neither of the figures said anything, but she could hear a small whine. She rolled her eyes, wondering how in her right mind she managed to get kidnapped by these people. There was no special presence to either of them. Either they were very good at masking their magical aura, or they did not have any (Naomi suspected the latter). The bulky guy probably did have some strength, judging from all the bulging muscles, but the timid person seemed rather useless in the situation. For a second Naomi wondered if they were the ones that attacked her, or if they were just the guards or something. The bulky figure started moving with slow and measured steps into the room, still staying quiet as a mouse. The timid figure followed the lead of the bulky one and although it wasn’t even near to the bulky guys’ perfection, he was doing rather well. ‘Interrogators,’ Naomi immediately suspected, a sly smirk slowly spreading across her lips. All through their magical ability was basically at a zero they seemed to have made it up with their knowledge of the human mind. Knowing where to put pressure, where to be careless at, what kind of actions to do to provoke answers and reactions was just a tip of the iceberg of any good psychological interrogator. Naomi knew that from her own shred of knowledge about the delicate art. After a few more minutes of silence and stillness Naomi sighed loudly, getting more and more bored with the situation she was in. The tall guy finally decided that now would be a good time to do something, flicking on the switch the light illuminated the room. Naomi shut her eyes immediately, hissing at the intruding light she wasn’t ready to face. Making sure to not open her eyes up again too quickly she kept them close for a few minutes, using her ears to follow the movements of the two figures that were now seated in front of her. Opening her eyes again she blinked a few times, the light still slightly foreigner to her. She finally got the chance to look at her interrogators. They were both men, a tall bulky one and a small timid one. She noticed now that the small one wasn’t all that small, well, he was definitely taller than her, but still seemed very small in the presence of the big guy. Both of them were contrast of each other. The bulky guy was not very attractive; his face had looked like he had been rammed into the wall full of nails face first quite a few times. His face was completely ravaged, full of scars and scratches, the intense glare in his onyx glare (which Naomi concluded was there permanently) only adding to his intimidating aura. He had short dishevelled charcoal hair, full lips and a flat nose. Both he and his partner were dressed in black, covered with a black cloak with spiral like blue patterns, marking them a part of the Iustitia Pugnatores, a world group, fighting for justice and for the people, keeping evil out of the way for normal, naïve civilians. Naomi scowled at their cloaks, angry that she allowed getting herself caught up in such a dump group of people that think they’re all good and amazing. She felt truly pathetic and she did not feel the need to hide the distaste in them from her face. The timid man now chuckled, seeming to gain some fake confidence and Naomi’s sapphire eyes snapped in his direction, raising her eyebrows in a questionable manner, but the man would not reply, smiling slightly and narrowing his own dark forest green eyes at her. All through he clearly tried to mask it Naomi could still smell a bit of fear and anxiety reeking off him. Looking through him carefully Naomi realized he was quite attractive with his untidy obsidian black hair and thin pink lips. Naomi’s scowl left her face and she smirked at the man slightly leaning forward (and suppressing a wince as the ropes dug deeper into her wrists), obviously checking him out. TO BE CONTINUED…