The men disappeared into the night.
I sat there in pain wondering when I would wake up from this nightmare.
I never did.
"Finally, they're gone".
I spun around, my heartbeat quickening. "Who said that?" I called out to the empty forest surrounding me. A soft chuckle echoed in my ear, "Are you scared?"
The blue light faded to darkness, and the burning sensation within me vanished completely. "Who are you?" I inquired of the mysterious voice.
From the shadows, a man stepped forward. He was tall, around six feet, with tousled brown hair, hazel eyes that seemed glued to mine, and a coat that hung loosely from his shoulders. I had no idea what I expected, but he was utterly different from what I had imagined.
"A fragile girl yearning for strength—sounds intriguing, doesn't it?" He smirked, and I instinctively took a step back. "What do you want from me?"
"I noticed your 'unique' strength level, and it piqued my interest," he said, brandishing a moon pendant like bait. "So, I chose you."
I swatted his hand away, and the necklace clanged against the ground. "Well, I'm not interested. I'd rather endure gruelling training with old men and sneak bites of meat when I'm exhausted!" I retorted, my frustration flaring.
He lifted the necklace and slipped it back into his pocket. "So, you're into older guys who treat you like a pet? Is that really your style?"
I felt a wave of revulsion. "I don't know what your problem is, but just let me be," I replied, turning to make my way out of the woods.
"That's not up to you, Dove," he called out, his voice riding on a gust of wind that quickened my heartbeat. "I've chosen you," he said, stepping closer with each word until he was right behind me.
In a sudden motion, he spun me around to face him, his gaze locked onto my wide, fearful eyes. "Don't be afraid; I'm actually a good guy. In fact, let's make a deal," he said with an easy nonchalance.
"What kind of deal?" I asked, intrigued despite myself.
"Give me just two nights. If, by then, you haven't figured out The Spin Cycle, I'll let you walk away," he declared, exuding an over-the-top confidence that was hard to ignore.
I stared at him like he had lost his mind. Did he even grasp what The Spin Cycle was? I could clearly recall that it had taken Chanel a whole year to perfect that manoeuvre, and she still held the record for the quickest execution of it.
"Are you alright? Maybe you're not familiar with the movie you're discussing? Or perhaps you just underestimate my knowledge?" I asked, curious about what thoughts were racing through his mind.
He chuckled and nodded. "The move created by Victor Ischgein 200 years ago? I think I know more about it than you do," he replied, exuding an almost palpable confidence.
I couldn't help but scoff at his audacity. "I've done a ton of research—trust me, you do NOT know more than I do," I shot back, feeling a mix of irritation and disbelief.
"Of course, how could I forget?" He reached out his hand, a playful grin on his face. "Hunter Ischgein, that's me." His smirk only grew as he watched my jaw drop in shock; I could hardly wrap my head around the fact that he was related to Victor Ischgein himself.
"'How can I trust that you're being honest?' I asked, fully aware that anyone could say anything, regardless of its truth. He chuckled, adjusting his coat, and replied, 'You don't have to take my word for it; I'll ensure I keep my promise.' A smug grin spread across his face.
I lowered my gaze, weighing my circumstances. If he was sincere, I had the chance of a lifetime to learn from a direct descendant of Ischgein himself. And I also had the choice to walk away if he didn't live up to his claims. It was all so surreal, yet I found myself saying, 'For now, I'll take your word for it.'
He turned to me, flashing a confident smile. 'You can call me Hunter.'
' I'll call you Ischgein,' I shot back.
He let out a sigh and glanced at the watch on his wrist. 'You can head home now,' he said casually.
I raised an eyebrow, intrigued. 'What do you mean? Aren't you going to teach me anything?'
He stretched his shoulders, turning his back to me. 'Training begins tomorrow. Feel free to tell your friends about this; you'll be teleported here by midnight every day.' With that, he walked away, leaving me alone to ponder what had just happened."
It was then that the realisation hit me.
"WAIT!," I called out, racing after him and colliding with him almost instantly. I swiftly picked myself up, anxious that he might have transformed into a werewolf, and that I had just unwittingly offered myself as his next meal.
He stood up, brushing off the dirt, his face twisted in anger. "What the heck is wrong with you?" he shouted, clearly annoyed. I quickly handed him a handkerchief, explaining, "Sorry about that… I'm a bit lost. I know it sounds silly, but it's my first time here. Can you please help me find my way back?" My plea was met with his intense gaze, but he didn't respond.
"Come with me," he finally said, taking hold of my hands and tugging me along. "Where are we going?" I inquired, but he remained silent.
We arrived at a bungalow painted in rich royal purple and white, giving off the same eerie vibe as Ischgein. "Where exactly are we?" I asked, hoping he would answer this time.
"My house. I don't know how to get back either," he replied, his focus still fixed intently on the structure. I suppressed a laugh threatening to spill out, "So, how am I supposed to get home?"
As he released my grip, he made his way to the front door. "Just stay the night. I'll take you home in the morning," he suggested. I trailed behind him as he stepped into the house. Once the door clicked shut, a chilling realisation washed over me—this place might be completely empty.
Clearing my throat, I asked, "Ischgein, do you live alone?"
He nodded, a hint of innocence in his voice. "Yeah, why do you want to know?" It was as if he couldn't fathom how questionable this situation really was.
I took a few deep breaths to steady myself. He wouldn't take advantage of me just because I had nowhere else to go, It was just the two of us now, and he was all too aware of my weakness, fully aware of his strength.
There was no way he would factor that into his thoughts, hopefully.
With an unexpected lightness, he said, "I'm a terrible cook, so you're welcome to take over. Make it for two, though," as if asking for a favour didn't feel out of place at all.
"I'm not hungry; I'm heading to bed," I said, hoping to end the conversation. He let out an exaggerated groan, his hand pressed against his stomach. "No way you're starving me! How can I train you if I'm six feet under?" He complained, his words flowing in a relentless stream.
"You won't die from missing one meal," I replied, trying my best to stay unaffected by his dramatics. He let out a resigned sigh and began rummaging through the cupboard. "Fine, I'll make myself something, but you'll regret this," he shot back, a playful hiss escaping his lips as he continued his search.
Suddenly, tension prickled at my skin. What if "regret" meant something more?
"I'LL COOK!" I exclaimed, dashing to the cupboard, my mind racing as I fumbled for ingredients I wasn't sure he even had. Moments like this drove my desire to grow stronger; I didn't want to live in fear of the unknown.
Ischgein could sense my unease, and that realisation unsettled me. He took my hand and gently nudged it away from the cupboard. "You seem scared. Why is that?" he asked, genuinely curious. I kept my silence, my focus on the cupboard. "I'm not afraid; I just don't trust you," I insisted, my voice steady but uncertain.
He let out a hearty laugh, leaning against the drawer. "Go to bed, or I'll take you there myself," he said with a playful grin.
I burst into laughter, unable to contain myself. "Is that supposed to be charming?" I retorted, still in fits of giggles.
"Just get to bed before I start second-guessing my choices," he replied, motioning to a door nestled between two others.
As I made my way towards the door, a warm sense of ease washed over me, especially when I heard him murmur, "You're definitely going to stir up some trouble, Miss Dove."
Rubbing my eyes, I glanced around, curious about the time—it was still dark outside. The bed beckoned, its softness almost swallowing me whole. I stretched my arms and legs as I settled up, relishing the comfort it offered.
An ominous sensation settled over me, one I just couldn't seem to shake off. It was as if the room were poised to consume me at any moment, leaving me with an unsettling sense of danger.
Suddenly, I felt a hand glide around my neck, causing my heart to race.
"Who are you?" the voice inquired.