Young Writers Society

One | Valentine Lucen | The Threat

The alley was empty except for the shattered glass on the ground from a nearby window and the woman I was following—the immortal who was soon to die.

I grinned a little; she hadn’t noticed I was there the entire time, and I’d been following her since the Shelter. I was getting even better.

Although she had made it easy; she’d led me into possibly the most abandoned corner of the Blanklands, nearest to Zephan City, which would make it an almost effortless kill.

I'd just have to remember to hide the body better, I thought, frowning as I remembered the words a stranger had whispered to me at the Shelter.

There’s an immortal killer out there, friend – it was on the news in Zephan City. No one knows how they do it, but some people say it’s the Ghostspeaker’s daughter with some special Gift. I don’t believe that for a second, but still...be careful, friend.

Oh, I would be careful.

The immortal’s foot fell on a crackling piece of glass, and she gasped a little, glancing around and finally noticing me, her eyes widening. “What the—”

“Hi,” I said sweetly, smiling more and savoring the moment. The fear in the immortal’s eyes—the fear they all deserved.

“What do you want?” Her eyes narrowed suspiciously and she reached for a weapon.

I laughed a little, closing my eyes and reaching for the power resting in my blood—the Magick Gift the Ghosts had given me—then watched as my veins began to glow red as if someone were holding a flashlight behind them. “That’s not going to do anything for you, and neither is your Gift.”

The woman swore loudly and spun, running as fast as she could in the other direction.

So she knew? Strange…

It didn’t matter; she couldn’t possibly run faster than light.

I smiled again as I sent the light of the Magick flowing from my veins and toward her in an almost laser-focused stream, twisting it around the corner as the immortal turned.

I could see in my mind where the light was; I watched it wrap itself around her and drag her, screaming, to the ground; I could see that she knew.

The immortal knew she was going to die.

The walk to where she was lying helpless in the street was very short; when I reached her I knelt next to her and grabbed her, forcing her to look at me.

“You thought you would never die,” I whispered, my smile fading. “You thought that made it alright to inflict that fate on so many others.”

“No.” She glared into my eyes. “That isn't why w—”

I dropped her, my face twisting into one of disgust. “You’ll even admit you killed people?”

“You…you’re about to kill me,” she shot back, clearly trying to mask the disbelief in her voice with defiance.

“You deserve it.”

“So did they.”

I paused, staring at her. So did they. There was always a possibility…

“You’re lying,” I spat, taking out my knife and slashing at her arm, then pressing my own glowing veins to hers and watching the magick seep into her blood. “You’re the only one here who deserves death. You Ghost-forsaken Adotis lover—”

I was interrupted by the immortal gasping loudly in pain as the magick burned her, spreading through her body.

She stared up at me, eyes watering. “I don't worship Adotis. Or the Ghosts. They're all…” She shuddered, squeezing her eyes shut, and I could see the magick’s light creeping into the veins in her face. “They’re all wrong. Evil,” she managed, curling into a ball.

I let the grim smile return. “If the Ghosts were evil, then they wouldn't be helping me serve justice, would they?”

“They can't help you,” she hissed, voice so faint I could barely hear. “They have no power.”

“Really? Then what would you call this?”

I sent the final surge of magick into her veins, and she screamed in pain, collapsing and starting to twitch as the blood-colored light grew.

“Don’t you wish,” I murmured, “that you had switched Gifts when you had the chance?”

The only answer I received was a bright flash of light, followed by the immortal’s body going dark and completely limp on the ground.

I wiped the blood off my knife and stood up, smirking down at her. There went another immortal who had paid for their sins.

Another immortal who would never get a chance to rob someone of their loved ones again.

I clenched a fist and tried to force back the memories of the night I’d found out—it didn't matter. They were gone, and I had a new family.

And I was sure I was making them—and the Ghosts—very proud.