Chapter Text
“Wake up!” Her arm is twisted as her eyes snap open, struggling, “wake the fuck up!
There’s a voice in her ear. There’s a person in her house.
Why is there a person in her house?
What the fuck?
“Get,” always aim for a weak spot, dick, “get the fuck off me!” She screams as the man huffs, pulling his weight off her as she takes a moment to breathe, tears running down her face.
That….what is happening right now?
She was sleeping. She literally just took a nap.
Why was…why was there a man in her house?
Her parents always told her to ‘pack pepper spray, pack pepper spray,’ but where the fuck was the pepper spray when you’re dead asleep and dragged out of your own fucking house?
Someone must’ve woken up, right?
Someone must’ve fought….were they dead?
Did her parents, her siblings, fresh out of middle school, die or did they report her missing?
Did they even try to help?
They did.
Her eyes darted around the room, but it’s dark and there’s some kind of symbol etched into the floor with candles surrounding it, setting the whole room ablaze as she started sweating.
“What the fuck?” She whispered, shaking her head. “What the absolute fuck?”
“It worked!” The guy from before announced, “she is one of us now!” He raised her arm to the sky as she tried to pull away.
This cannot be happening.
This was a cult.
Why was she summoned by a cult?
She’s not…this isn’t how magic fucking worked!
Actually, how would she know how magic fucking worked?
There was a round of applause and her eyes darted all over, but she couldn’t see.
There were too many people.
What were they going to do to her?
Maybe they’d…maybe…no, please no.
Thump. One of them approaches closer, their face illuminated by the flickering candles, yellow dancing on freshly white pavement, reaching the black of their eyes.
They stand a few feet in front of her, stopping observing her expression.
She screams, clawing at her arm as one of the masked figures walks forward, holding a hand out.
She grasps at the lifeline being offered, practically begging, watching as the figure tilts their head.
Cold metal surrounds her instead of the feeling of human warmth and she feels caged in as the figure yanks her forward, lips touching the cold metal instead of feeling the human warmth, her hands tangle in their hair and her legs wrap around their waist.
The mummers around her fill her ears and she smirks.
The bizarreness of the situation finally got to her as she sighs, but there are people in white masks freaking out and there is nothing freakier than this because why are they even experimenting with magic and ghosts and all that stuff?
Like what the fuck?
The figures shift uneasily, glancing at each other and when they move, the figure she managed to pin down holds up a hand.
They freeze. “Enough, little Talon,” their hand presses against her cheek, “how do you feel?”
“Hot.” She purrs, blinking, “wait, no, when do I get a mask like that?”
Her hands slide down to adjust the mask, trying to see who was behind it and wondering if she could get a name from them because usually the police have murderers on file, right?
She’s only heard bad things about the police, but a missing case would surely be reported, right?
Like they’d come for her, right?
They laugh. “You’ll get a new one soon.”
She blinks.
New one?
Did she have a mask before?
She doesn’t remember that unless it was one of those skin care routines that she tried out the other day, but it wouldn’t result in whatever cosplay they were trying to pull off.
“Still, I think this one’s nice enough,” and manages to yank off their mask to reveal the most beautiful faces ever and the only thing that comes out of her mouth is, “did you put makeup on?”
“I did, actually, why?” He bats his eyelashes, “does my eyeliner look really good?”
“Yeah,” she nods absently and she takes in the little details like how his eyes seem to glow green under the candlelight, “I can never get my eyeliner straight for some reason.”
A cough tears his eyes away from her and she uses this moment to search his body for weapons.
In any kidnapping scenario, people always tell you that a person armed is more dangerous and to comply with their orders.
She doesn’t know how to fight, but she does know that any kind of weapon gives her some kind of leverage.
She spots the holster pressing into her hips.
It’s kinda hot actually, but she rolls her hips forward, trying to get a better grip on the knife.
For a second, his head tilts back at her and she freezes before he goes back to respond to the person.
Her fingers find the owl hilt, wrapping around it and pulling, not caring as the guy tries to stop her.
She bites his neck and stabs his hip as he hisses in pain. “What the fuck?”
She pushes him away and he falls on his back as she straddles him, pulling the knife out and aiming for the heart.
A bat shaped shirikun comes out of nowhere like one of those Naruto cosplays, but bat-themed, and knocks the knife out of her hand along with any hope for escape as her mouth drops open.
Damn, tough crowd.