The Magic that Lies Within

          "What do you want from me?" I asked, standing at attention, trying hard to hide my terror.

          "You know very well what I want from you, now hand it over."

          "I don't know what you're talking about. I don't have anything!" I shouted, hoping my voice didn't quaver and crack too much.

          The tall, stocky man with chocolate brown hair and an all-black outfit stepped over to the small table behind me and I heard the faint shing of a knife being lifted. I tensed, preparing for the knife to enter my body. The man walked back over to his place in front of me and held the knife at my face, twisting and turning it so that the dim light from the warehouse we were in reflected off of it.

          "Very well," he whispered, a sly smile spreading wider on his face. "Since we can't do this the easy way... I'll just have to cut it out of you."

          This time I didn't try to hide my fear. I stared at him wide-eyed, my face stricken. "Wait!" I shouted, my ddesperation rising. "What do you want? Just tell me and if I have it, I'll give it to you!"

          He laughed a gravely, evil laugh. "Why, I want your magic, of course! Isn't it obvious?"

          I stared at him speechless. "My.....magic?"

          "Yes," he said, his sly expression turning to annoyance. "And I'm getting rather impatient so let's move this along quickly. Hand it over, or I'll have to cut it out of you."

          "Why would you want my magic?" I asked, desperation turning to despair. I couldn't lose my magic. It was all I had left. It was the only connection I had to my parents. Who was this creep and why did he want my magic?

          He leaned so close that I could smell his awful breath. He gave me a vicious look. "Because of you, my magic was taken from me, so now I will take yours so you will see what it's like to live without magic," he explained, anger lurking in his eyes.

          "I don't even know you! How could I have cost you your magic?" I screamed, hoping someone would hear me and come check out the situation. But I knew it was useless. These pale gray, molding walls were soundproof. No one could hear me, no one could help me.

          His face starting twitching, then it started... morphing. He was changing into something else, someone else. After a few seconds, his face became still again, but it wasn't the tall, stocky guy with chocolate brown hair and blue eyes anymore. Now he was the tall, stocky guy with jet black hair and eyes the color of crimson. I froze in panic at the sight of him. I knew him, and I hoped never to cross paths with him again. But I did tonight. "Philonecron!" I whispered under my breath.

          He stood up straight, making himself even taller, then looked my dead in the eyes. "Yes, I am Philonecron, and you will pay for what you did to me."

          Fury boiled inside of me, and my head spiraled and swirled at all the memories hitting me at once. The screams of my mother. The look of despair on my father's face. The grinning Philonecron standing behind them, making sure they were bound tightly. The sight of the knife entering my mother's chest and the broken-hearted screams of my father. The spell my father uttered as he died slowly, the poison from an injected substance seeping into his bloodstream. The sight of Philonecron's magic being ripped out of him. It all flooded back to me at once, making my head throb. 

          This time, I looked Philonecron in the eyes, and instead of feeling fear, I felt unimaginable hate and fury taking over my entire being, making me tremble. "It was my father who cast the spell as he laid dying because of you, holding my mother in his weak, outstretched arms! It was my father who died to save me from you! I didn't do anything to you, except fight. I fought you that night out of hate! I hate you!"

          I screamed every threat that came to my mind, and when my voice finally started to give out, I muttered the words, "Why did you do it?"

          "Because they were endangering my plan! Now I'm tired of talking! Hand over the magic!"

          "I won't do it," I spat.

          "You must," he insisted.

          "I refuse," I spat.

          Philonecron sighed, then stared off into the distance. "Why can't you ever do anything the easy way? You are powerless here. I can do anything I want to you. You're magic won't help you here."

          I looked down at my Nikes sneakers, not wanting to look him in the eyes again. I knew this place was enchanted, and my magic was useless, but there must be some way...

          I slipped my left foot silently out of my sneaker and slid it slowly towards the knife on the floor. I grabbed the knife the best I could with my toes and kicked it upwards, catching it with my hands that were bound in front of me at the wrists. While Philonecron was turned around, whipsering something to his creepy cat, I drew the knife back, and brought it down right between his shoulderblades, making him scream an unhuman scream and fall like a rock to the ground. He was still writhing in pain, so I stabbed him in the neck twice for good measure. Then using the knife to cut myself free, I walked out of the warehouse, head held high, and headed home.