Z groaned as he came to, black and gray colors swirling around him. He gulped, feeling a fresh sting swaddle his skin. He gritted his teeth. Aalto. Dammit. The bitch must’ve messed with the shower.
The boy slowly sat himself up, his arms brushing against the softest sheets he had ever felt. Soft sheets? Was he in a bed? Puzzled, Z inspected his surroundings.
He was in a large room with laces of green vines crawling up the walls and blooming into lilac wisterias. A small bookcase and reading chair stood to his left, while a nightstand topped with an intricate lamp was found on his right. The wall beyond the nightstand was made entirely of glass, allowing the moonlight to bathe the room in a soft glow.
Z eased himself off the bed, gently stepping into the white fur slippers stationed next to it. He peered out the window, struck with the familiar scene of nature surrounding the room.
An evergreen forest extended for miles, stocked to the brim with exotic animals who enjoyed a sheltered life within the estate of the Phyllis. In the distance, Z could just barely make out a large cabin made of trees cut down to form a clearing.
The sight made Z shiver. He rubbed at his arms uneasily trying to settle the goosebumps that had formed. He didn’t think he would ever come back to this place.
The door clicked open, and Z whipped his head around to stare at the two boys who entered. He snarled, lunging towards the shorter of the two. Unsheathing a hidden dagger from the folds of his pants, Z gripped the back of Aalto’s neck, pressing him against the dagger that was now biting at Aalto’s throat.
The boy yelped in alarm, raising his hands in surrender. Aalto glanced at Icarus uneasily, who sighed exasperatedly, “Let him go, Z.”
Z didn’t do anything to show he had acknowledged Icarus’s presence. He kept a trained glare on Aalto, who gulped as the steel glinted. Watching Z anxiously, he hissed at Icarus, “I thought you got rid of his weapons!”
The Tipu ignored him. “Z, please. Let him go and we can talk.”
Reluctantly, the cold metal backed off Aalto’s throat. The blonde let out a breath of relief as Z stepped back.
Z’s gaze warily flickered between the two boys. He narrowed his eyes at them. “What is the meaning of this? Kidnapping is illegal, you know. So is trying to disintegrate someone.”
Aalto scoffed, rubbing at the spot where the dagger had scraped him. “Yeah, and so is murder.” He pursed his lips, looking somewhat apologetic. “And the acid wasn’t strong enough to disintegrate you. It was just supposed to knock you out.”
Z mocked Aalto’s scoff, crossing his arms menacingly. “Yeah? It hurt like a bitch for a mere sedative.” He scowled, turning his face away from Aalto. “And I didn’t murder anyone.”
“Really?” Icarus butted in, staring at Z with an unreadable gaze. Z winced, averting his eyes to the fancy silver rug beneath his feet. The white-haired boy pressed his lips together tightly. “Aalto, leave us.”
The Wai glanced at him curiously, but obediently stepped out of the room, gently closing the door behind him.
Icarus stepped forward, gripping Z’s chin to force him to face him. The other boy resisted, swinging his head around to glare at the green vines decorating the walls. Icarus scoffed, letting go and crossing his arms. “You can’t even look me in the eye.”
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He snatched the dagger out of Z’s hand with a scowl. Icarus turned away from him, declaring, “You have no money and no powers. It takes four weeks to walk from here to the examination site, and there are only four days until the exam begins. I advise you to sit tight until it’s over.”
He turned to look at Z, his smile betrayed by the pain in his eyes. “I hope you suffer while you’re here.” Icarus walked out, slamming the door behind him.
But he didn’t leave. Icarus stood silently behind the shut door, staring blankly at the hardwood floor. “Fuck,” he murmured. “I didn’t mean that.”
Did he? He wasn’t sure what he wanted anymore.
Z swallowed, desperately trying to get rid of the lump in his throat. He could feel the bile rise from his stomach as those dreaded memories rose to torment him. Z took a shaky breath, relaxing his muscles.
He didn’t have time for this. He had to get to that exam. Good thing he knew the inside mechanics of House Phyllis by heart.
Z was left alone for an hour too long contemplating his escape route. He hummed softly to pass the time, watching the clock on the wall inch its way towards eight o’clock. As soon as the clock struck, a soft click from the door sounded out, making Z smirk triumphantly.
A young girl, perhaps around Z’s age, inched open the door to his room as she rolled in a tray stocked with luxurious food. “Master Z!” She called out. “Master Z! I have brought you your dinner.”
Hearing no response, she glanced up, yelping when she saw the window in the back of the room covered in streaks of blood. Shivering, the girl shook her head, wiping off her hands on her blue apron. “Master Z, the window is tempered. I’m afraid you won’t be able to break through it, even with your formidable strength.”
The room remained silent, and the girl nervously stepped forward. “Master Z?” The girl’s eyes glowed red as her body temperature increased slowly. Hands at the ready, she stepped further into the room, hesitantly calling out to Z.
The very second she stepped away from the tray, a heavy force dropped from the ceiling, knocking her onto her stomach. The girl tried to scream, but a gloved hand covered her mouth, and a sharp knife pressed against the nape of her neck.
“Move, you die. Scream, you die. Use your element, and you die. Are we understood?” The girl nodded furiously, frozen in place with terror. Z hummed, withdrawing his knife. He slowly slid off of her, walking towards the tray she had brought in.
The girl scrambled to get away from him, scooting backward until her back was pressed against the window at the far side of the room. The boy rolled his eyes. He grabbed another knife from within his jacket, flinging it at the tempered glass. It struck the window inches from the girl’s head, bouncing off the glass and causing her to shudder.
Z pursed his lips, turning towards the tray in front of him and examining its contents. He spoke as he picked up one of the plastic containers perched on the tray, saying, “You can avoid me if you wish, just know that I can kill you within a second or two from any point in this room.”
Z took off the lid of the container, his mouth watering at the aroma that filled the room. “Mm, braised pork belly. My favorite.”
He sighed, snapping the lid back in place, a dark and nostalgic feeling welling in his chest. “Let me guess, Icarus told them to make it.” Z looked back to see the girl glaring at him warily, her entire body tense with fear. He sighed. “Fine, we don’t have to talk. Just give me the keys to the room.”
Z shrugged off his jacket, laying it on the ground and placing the containers of food inside. Once they were all stacked up nicely, he tied the sleeves of his jacket together to form a little sack. Swinging the sack over his shoulder, he turned back towards the girl, raising an eyebrow.
“Would you rather I go over there and get it myself?”
The girl shook her head, shuffling through her apron and throwing a ring of keys at Z. He caught it with his free hand, examining the numbers on the keys. “Which one?”
The girl’s voice slightly trembled as she answered, “The one marked 128.”
Z nodded, fishing out the correct key and sticking it into the lock. The door turned with a click. Grinning, Z pulled it open, nodding at the girl on the other side of the room, who avoided his gaze.
He slipped out quietly, carefully checking the hallway for passersby before bolting down the hall. Z knew this place like the back of his hand. He traversed the house with ease, only stopping occasionally to stay hidden out of sight.
Finally, he arrived at the front door. Taking a deep breath, Z grabbed the knob and turned it, swinging the door open to see an older man with nearly the exact same features as Icarus. Z’s eyes widened in panic, his arms automatically swinging to slam the door shut again.
The older man stuck his foot in the doorway, a sinister smile on his face.
“Now, now, Z. Is that any way to treat an old friend?”