Silvia slept, heavy as she always did, dead to the world, dreams louder than reality. She didn't hear the small creak as the exterior shutters over her window were slowly pulled open. She didn't hear the faint high pitched scratch as a tool cut a circle out of the glass. She didn't hear the lock click, the window slide up, or the two men dressed as black as the night creep in through the window facing the foot of her bed.

The men looked around the room, one short and stocky, his associate lanky and tall. They took in the fine surroundings as the tall one walked silently to the door. He made sure it was locked and shoved a small felt covered wedge into the crack jamming the door. Short and stocky began to take out rope and a rough cloth to use as a gag, slowly and quietly he arranged them at the foot of the bed. He used his hands to sign words to his tall friend in the low light “Set up the harness.”

The tall one pulled in a rope that was attached outside the window, leading down the side of the castle wall. He attached a harness with multiple straps for loading cargo. He winced as a metal clasp clanged shut. Both men froze, eyes locked on each other then the girl, but she slept on.

Easy money, thought the tall man.

They had everything in position, now came the hardest part. And with a girl this size it still wouldn't be that hard. The men stood with the ropes and gags on either side of her bed, short and stocky smirked to tall and lanky and held his fingers up to count.

1… 2… 3…

Tall and lanky threw the covers back and leapt on top of her torso, immediately pinning her arms. As he did, short and stocky jumped up and grabbed her legs pulling them straight.

Silvia's eyes shot open as a heavy weight hit her in the chest like a pile of stones, before she could say anything rough canvas was pressed against her nose and mouth stifling her breathing. She struggled but her arms were pinned down and around the cloth she could see a man, beads of nervous sweat dripping down his face. He was smiling, a sickening awful smile that made her heart jump into her throat. She tried to scream but she couldn't even draw in air. She felt her legs being pulled and rough rope being coiled around them, it burned her skin as it cinched tight against her ankles. Tears welled up out of fear, she thrashed as best she could but they had her held down completely. Her eyes darted around looking for anything she could use, her chest heaved as she tried to breathe through the cloth. Panic mounted and mounted until her whole body was shivering. Her head buzzed, a mixture of suffocation and fear.

The man on top of her tied a rope around her head holding the cloth over her mouth, but mercifully let her nose be free. She sucked in air and the world steadied slightly. He pulled the rope so tight it cut into her cheeks slightly splitting the corners of her mouth. She tasted blood. Then he grabbed her hands and slid his hips lower down her torso to free her arms. She saw a second man come around and start to wrap more rope around her wrists. She tried to scream again but almost no noise came out, she gagged on the rope and cloth wedged in her mouth sending her into a near silent coughing fit. She wrested a hand free and smacked the short man in the face. He struck back with a large round fist and rocked her world into darkness for a moment. Her eyes, unfocused, only saw shades of black and white as the men attempted to wrap her hands. She thought she was losing consciousness as her eyes rolled back. The world went suddenly white.

The tall man was the first to notice her eyes, a sheen of color came over them giving off a low light in the dark room. He saw her purple irises spread to the edges of her eyes, then the black of her pupil dilate to twice its size.

“What the fuck is that?” he whispered as fear crept into his voice.

“Shhh.” said the short man, focused on her wrists.

A thick purple fog began to leak from her eyes, it rolled down her cheeks and floated heavily through the air.

Tall and lanky's eyes went wide “Somethings wr-” but it was too late.

A gust of wind that felt like a solid wall threw them both backwards off the bed. They landed hard on the thick rugs covering the stone floor. Stunned and confused they looked up at the bed. Her skin began emanating light, pulsing a purplish pink. Legs still tied, gag still in, she began to float off the bed chest first, like a marionette whose strings were tangled together. As she rose her head came up, smoke still fell from her eyes and now leaked around the gag in her mouth. With every pulse of light a new gust pushed them back. They tried to walk towards her, knowing they had to move fast before someone came. But every pulse slid them backwards as they tried to press through the thick air between them and their target.

Suddenly before them they saw the smoke from her eyes and mouth start to collect in the air. It began spinning, like a whirlpool turned on its side, little bits of static arced around the edges. The pool ripped open revealing black empty space. Not black like a moonless night, or the black of sleep, but a black that seemed to pull in the light of the room, consumed it, dimmed everything but the girl floating behind it. They couldn’t find their tools, as it got darker they weren’t even sure where the window was anymore. They heard a scream, it sounded like a man.

****

Darren woke suddenly, drenched in sweat and sucking in air. He felt like a cinder block had been dropped on his chest, anxiety and adrenaline rising. He couldn’t take full breaths and the room felt like it was spinning. He looked around his dark room but everything was just as it had been when he went to sleep. Without thinking he grabbed the large hunting knife in its sheath and stood, he moved the drapes and looked out his window confused, trying to understand what woke him. Why he felt like he did. He didn’t know what was going on but the feeling was too strong to ignore, he was running on autopilot. He threw his wrestling shoes on quickly, tying them tight in case he needed the traction.

No dog barking, but something ain't right, he thought, Is this a panic attack? I never had one before.

He gripped the knife tightly but left it in the sheath as he slid it into his belt, clipping it on against the small of his back. He walked towards the door when he heard something behind him, a small hiss like air pressure releasing. He looked back and saw a small light on his wall, a dark purple dot.

“What is that?” he murmured quietly in confusion. He stepped closer and it began to widen. Some kind of violet smoke began to pour out of it, it felt like a breeze was at his back now. He stepped back beside his bed, next to his desk. He grabbed his phone from the nightstand on reflex, unsure who he would call he watched as the hole started growing faster. The wind at his back grew stronger. He pocketed the phone and went for the door behind him, but the wind grew stronger still as he walked farther from the hole. He looked back over his shoulder and saw the outside of the hole spinning as the center began to turn black, it looked like something out of a Wile E. Coyote cartoon. An Acme portable hole appeared on his wall. The wind started hitting him in gusts, driving him back towards the hole. He reached out and grabbed his desk to pull himself to the door. His muscles started burning as he fought the wind, they stung like his arms and legs were covered in ants. His grip slipped as the desk slid on the carpet. As he clambered for a better grip his hand got wrapped in the strap of his school bag. The wind kept pulling him and as another gust hit him he was knocked backwards. He tumbled across his bed and grabbed the footboard, his feet inches from the hole. Only now did he realize nothing else in the room was being pulled, nothing else was disturbed at all except from his touch.

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“What the fuck is happening!?” he yelled, “Mom!”

He heard thumping through the house, his parents trying to get to him in the dark. He didn’t know if his grip could hold out, but it didn’t matter. With a crack the footboard of the old bed he'd had since he was a child ripped off the rest of the frame. He and the board flew back into the hole, he watched the door to his room fly open just as the hole closed. The edges spun inward, giving off little crackles of electricity as it disappeared, the smoke dissipated and just like that he was floating in pure black space. At least he felt like he was floating, or maybe gently falling, gently sinking through nothing. His muscles immediately stopped burning but the original panic was still there, only amplified by having actual reasons for fear. But, everything around him was calm.

He saw the board floating just in front of him, he pushed it lightly and it spun in place like there was no gravity or air resistance to stop it. He realized his bag was still wrapped around his arm, he untangled it and hung it over his shoulder. He tried to wave his arms to 'swim' in the empty space and only managed to set himself spinning slowly like the board. It was just black. Black on every side.

“Am I fucking dead? Or am I tripping or something?” he asked in the darkness, but no response came back. He noticed the sinking feeling again, had it sped up? Just a little bit? He felt air start to push his hair back coming from one direction. He flared his arms and legs, catching the air to slowly right himself. As the spinning stopped he found the direction he was 'sinking' in.

What's that? He thought he could see something in the distance. Just a speck of light, so small he wasn't sure if it was just spots in his eyes as they tried to find anything to lock onto amongst the nothingness.

“No, there's something there.” he said, more sure of it. He was also sure that the sinking was speeding up, he was actually falling now. He felt his stomach turn over from the shift as he felt like his weight finally had direction. As if gravity had just been turned on. He felt the board lightly bounce off him as it fell past him longways, cutting through the air that was beginning to form around them. It flew down and down toward the speck, which seemed to be getting bigger by the second. He was picking up speed even faster, it felt like he was sticking his face out a car window on the highway, the incoming air made it hard to take in a breath. As he got closer he watched the speck become a spot, then a hole, then he noticed stone on the other side.

“Uh no, nuh-uh.” he said, unsure of what to do. The stone was coming right at him, he tried shifting his arms but it didn't change his direction, just caused him to spin again, end over end. He saw flashes of blackness, then stone, blackness, and stone closer still. He let out a yell, he didn't know what else to do. He pulled his knees to his chest and his arms around his head. He saw darkness, then saw between him and the stone, a short fat man was standing there. His eyes seemed to be looking past the hole, around it, fear written all over him as plain as day.

Darren kept screaming and felt the speed pick up even harder in the last few feet as he breached the hole. With one final push he felt himself launched through the opening, curled into a ball, yelling so hard his chest hurt. He flew through and bounced off the short man he had seen and then into the stone that turned out to be a wall rather than the ground. He felt the little air he had left after screaming shoot out of him so hard he thought he'd burst. Darren bounced off the wall at an angle and landed on the floor in a heap, his whole left side aching. Blood started to seep from the scrapes where his arms hit the stone. He looked around trying to understand what happened. He saw a tall man run to a window further along the wall, reach through it and yell something Darren couldn't make out. The hole was gone, and there was a girl lying limp on the floor, half tied with rope.

“Fuck! That's my brother you just killed!” the tall man roared as he turned to Darren. He took a large knife out of his belt. The man was dressed all in black, and yet the hatred on his face seemed even darker.

“I didn't do anything, I don't even know where I am!” Darren called out as he scooted back and rose to his feet.

The tall man didn't care, he walked steadily forward with the knife held out in front. He closed the distance quickly and began swiping with the blade.

In his confusion Darren just put his hands up in front of him and caught a slash across both forearms. He felt a deep burn, to the bone, as blood immediately poured down his arms to his elbows. The man kept swiping and caught him again on the left arm and shoulder, before reaching back to stab Darren in the stomach. Darren stopped thinking and let his training take over. He shot both arms down, hands open wide and caught the man's wrist. Tall and lanky tried to pull the knife back but Darren kept his grip on the hand and handle with his right. He wrapped his left arm around the man's elbow and grabbed his own wrist, twisting the man's arm and driving the knife away from his own body and into the leg of the tall man. The man let out a yell but kept struggling, the stronger and larger of the two. Darren hooked the back of the man's knee with his calf and threw his weight forward taking them both to the ground with Darren on top. The man landed on his side and Darren straddled his hip, he scooted up slightly and locked the arm with the knife under him. Still in shock Darren just grabbed the man's other wrist to hold him down. Tall and lanky let go of the knife so he could snake his arm out from under the weight on top of him. He landed a punch that nearly knocked Darren off of him. Nearly. Darren latched onto that hand and pinned it across the man's chest. He reached behind the man's head and took hold of his wrist, twisting it far behind his neck. Darren slipped his own free hand between the man's shoulder and neck on the opposite side and grabbed his own wrist behind the man's head, a gift wrap choke. He sank down and squeezed with everything he had. The man's free arm tried to reach the knife sticking out of his leg but couldn't get around Darren's waist.

Darren could hear banging on a door just out of his sight and heard yelling behind it. He heard a heavy metallic clunk, then more banging. The thumping grew louder and heavier against the wood, but he could only focus on the fight in front of him.

Tall and lanky began to throw punches at Darren's ribs, but pinned to the ground partially on that arm, they had no real power in them. The punching turned to scratching and scraping at the arm pressed against the side of his neck. The scraping became a weak pulling at the elbow, until the hand just rested lightly on Darren's arm. He kept squeezing and dropped his weight even heavier on the man twisting his upper body to lock the choke down harder. He didn't know how long he held it, but the man's hand fell to the ground after a moment.

Darren fell back and kicked him away. The tall man just limply rolled face first onto the cold stone just past the edge of the rug, his face and neck smeared with Darren’s blood. Darren looked down at his arms and registered that he was bleeding. Red coursed down his arms and onto his dark gray jeans. He stood and looked for something to wrap it with when the door burst open. Not opened on its hinges, but blew fully in half down the middle. Wooden splinters shot around him and into his arm and face, the force knocked him back a step and onto one knee. He looked up to see an angry blond man not much older than him smashing through the center, symbols on his arms and up to his neck glowed a dark purple. The man had a sword.

The blond man looked around the room and saw the man in black in a pile on one side, the girl unconscious and tied on the other, and Darren staring up at him from the middle. Another young man with black hair pushed through the doorway, something in his hands glowed the same dark purple as smoke dripped from them. Fire began to swirl around his hand as he aimed it at Darren. It felt like the world slowed down as fire burst forward in a jet towards him. He dove clumsily to the side and landed hard on his cut forearms. He looked back and saw the blond man coming towards him. He tried to make it to his feet but the man kicked him squarely in the chest knocking him onto his back. The man swapped his grip, holding the sword by the blade he brought the handle down in a wide arc, like he was chopping wood. The pommel was the last thing Darren saw as his world went dark.