My bones didn't shake. Rather, this time they rattled. Faster and heavier than ever before. Slowly picking up pace and my mind picked up a horrible feeling as the soundless interaction ensued.

His smile was slowly curving as I took the caution to gradually stride towards him.

His head tilted as I put my foot on the first step before the cottage. I hadn't been expecting him right away, in all honesty.

"Is something wrong?"

His voice alone put my mind into a restless state.

"No." I responded as fast as possible. I needed to get this conversation out the way pronto.

"Nothi-?" I don't have time for this.

"Nothing."

I walked right past him, shutting the door behind me.

Vorgio let out a brief chuckle as the boy shut the door behind him, dragging in a small pool of the bristling air.

The winter wind caressed my back as the door shut. Fearful his psychotic might emerge once more, I sprinted to my room.

Only after shutting the door, pushing 3 locks and preparing 3 sources of world-energy behind my door could I finally let out a deep breath.

"Haaa."

I lay on my bed face-down. My head stuffed into my blanket.

My mind finally pulled its lost pieces together.

I pushed myself out of my bed and let my knees rest in a 90 degree position.

This would be the second time, I ever sneaked into someone's room.

God forgive, if I end up fainting again. Because this time, the stakes were much higher.

Yet the rewards would be much higher in contrast.

A faint excitement rose in my heart.

Swiftly and anxiously, I grabbed a black cloak from my closet before hanging it over myself.

Now, all one could see from my attire was a slightly-paled face.

A silken black hood covered most of my head and the cloak covered my body.

As long as I managed to stay quiet,breathless and unnoticable, I should be able to find his true self.

I stepped outside my room, a large creak sounding. It raised my apprehensions but nevertheless, I creeped down to the basement.

The place where it all started.

Since my leaving, the place had changed.

Rather than being a shallow,black room with a small tabletop in the middle. It was now covered in wardrobes, jewellery and ornaments.

I was curious to investigate and examine, when deathening footsteps sounded from above me.

My instincts screamed, my legs ran.

I found myself panting between two wardrobes and under a table.

I could see his figure, my face was side-planted on the ground.

My body lay curled up, the cold floor was uncomfortable yet fitting for the situation.

His figure slowly strode in, and down the stairs.

Clearly pondering, just who had entered his domain.

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I didn't breathe or blink.

I didn't move a muscle, in fear of his suspicion catching me by the tail.

The wood by me was scraping my hair but It did not matter.

For the man in front of me had been scraping my hand for every second of every day.

His breath released a cloud of steamy white mist that rose into the atmosphere.

He chuckled lightly, despite the lack of comedy present.

He then walked up to the door, his footsteps leaving no sound, proceeding to slowly close it.

A subtle creak sounded.

It was the only sound present, and it too soon disappeared into the fadeless darkness.

And all that remained was the cold of Winter.

He then stood on top of the table.

That dredged table.

And there a dastard smile grew on his face.

His hands shivered from excitement, his legs stood still and proud.

He took off his black cloak, revealing a ghastly green buttoned shirt underneath.

He closed his eyes, his hands still trembling from soon unknown excitement.

And he tore off his restraints.

His eyes widened, murderously.

His arms spread.

On his chest, lay the mark of a cobra.

The mark of the Dracovich,

The mark of Chloras family's killer.

The mark of the devil.

His figure was illuminated by a crescent silver light.

Every tip and edge bore an artistic beauty.

A layer of muscles bulged in his now open arms, evidence of his former prowess.

His legs lay wide, prostrating his chest out.

His chest was muscled and grim.

The mark of the cobra ran from his belly button to around his shoulder.

One could not see the rest from the front. I could almost feel a faint,distant hissing behind me but knew not to move.

His paleness, even paler in the white light, was unnatural.

Warning and omenistic.

His eyes glowed a satanic green. A satanic green of the Dragovich family. So green that one would picture radioactivity lurking and seeping through them. His eyes however, soon shut.

As if he had gained something from standing here, and there was nothing more to be gained his maniacal form slowly deformed.

His widened eyes slowly calmed.

His muscles slowly retracted.

His eyes started cooling down.

And his legs started lowering.

He formally picked up his shirt before buttoning it back onto himself.

He held a calm sigh, as if this had been on his mind for a while.

He then took his cloak and put it back on, careful to not leave a button undone. His skin finally showed more colour as the coldness that had formed and been heightened by the silver glow started wearing off.

His expressions died down and he returned to the old, that-guy-you-know Vorgio.

The guy I hate.

Vorgio.

___________________________

Vorgio shut the door behind him. Leaving behind the cold,chilling and reminiscent air. His mouth let out a quiet chortle before he covered it briefly.

Elrar went back to reading his book. Shutting the open door that showed him an embarrassing side of Vorgio.

Vorgio patted his white hair down sadistically.

His hands rubbed together in amusement of the events to come.

"Oh, how naive."

He then left to go outside. To the white haven that he himself had barely touched during his stay in the cottage.

His eyebrows soon raised as a man with long black hair, golden black robes and sunlit eyes came from the door beside him.

"Vorgio."

To the sight of his old 'friend', Vorgio merely nodded cheerfully and kept his head lowered.

Elrar kept his voice calm yet clear. To the point where every syllable made its way directly into Vorgios ears.

"Keep your hands off my property."

Vorgio tilted his head in confusion.

"My, my is it that personal?"

His voice contained a trace of mocking that he himself could not detain, even for the man he respected most.

Elrar lifted his staff. Pointing at Vorgios right arm.

Muscles bulged through his coat (Vorgios.)

He looked at his gripped arm, realising that he had been slowly and painfully tearing off a large chunk of wood from the house's walls.

"I see."

Vorgio slowly removed his hand, making sure to take as much of the wood as he could possible. His hand did not bleed or clench, it merely dragged a large chunk of wood off the walls.

The mark was deep and ruined the perfect aesthetic of the cottage. Vorgio spoke with a silver tongue after doing this deed.

"I was assuming you were making a... differant referral."

As his face slowly moved, the words slid of Vorgios tongue twisted and slithery.

Vorgio looked straight into Elrars golden eyes. Yet received no attention.

Elrar was pondering, rather slowly. He then slowly spoke out.

"That is... susceptible."

Vorgio slowly dropped the wood that was in his clenched fist.

It dropped in a soundless clutter. If one looked closer, the wood was lightly drenched with sweat.

"It's behind me, isn't it."

Vorgio sighed. Closing his eyes as he suspected the strange storm of energy behind him.

He could not see,hear or even feel it.

But he had the assurance of his acquaintance to make this simple question open.

Elrar responded as if someone had just slit his tongue. The lion in his throat still somehow coated his words in a silent roar.

"Why don't you test that."

A shallow,cold and nerving silence descended. The white and aesthetic pleasure of the cottage next to him, now made Vorgio sweat nervous bullets in contrast to his past enjoyments of the view.

Vorgio decided to break this unheavenly silence with a light chuckle, an awkward hand on his head, and a hopefully well response.

"Ah, haa. I'd rather not, my good friend Elrar."

To this response, Elrar merely walked out.

Vorgio did not heed a sigh of relief.

Rather, his excitement returned.

He was starting to understand the power he seeked dearly.

And he was starting to wrench apart the besmircher of his creation.

Oh, what a wonderful time it was to be Vorgio.

Truly.