Episode 1

"Trust is a dangerous game." - Unknown

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Silence. Impatience. Frustration.

I ran to the man with the coat, grabbed his arm and rammed my leg into his stomach. His coat was red like spilled sheets of blood in a midnight hour after pitch dark. Yet, as the coat went under my chilled fingertips, the fabric was so soft that it was almost familiar.

The man's excruciating noise awoke me from my sudden daydreaming and I watched him as he sank down on the stone-alike ground that seemed to swallow him after all. I looked up.

Several men, seemingly copies of the one with the spilled-blood coat came up, waiting for me. With the order of getting me out of the way. I smiled softly at the thought that they actually thought they could. It was nearly sweet.

I heard a loud crack and looked to my right. My partner for this order had turned up. I didn't know her. Her face was covered by a davy's-gray mask, and her hair was tied back in a firm bun. Her facial features were telling me that she was a girl, somewhat around my age. One of the men was below her and she used the trick that made one lose consciousness. She looked up when the man had been eliminated and grinned at me. The smile that grazed my face was full of encouragement as she gestured me forward.

In these Nights, there was no honor. Everyone wanted what they wanted. Force was needed. Partnering up for survival was necessary. An attitude like this served as an aid of survival.

Two more copies-alike men came up to me, and though their eyes shared their deepest fear with me, nothing hindered them from wanting to bash me down to mother earth. The dark-haired woman's gesture indicated that I should duck, as she ran off to a third copy-man, and opened a small, deep-hid pocket in her jacket. Loose powder flew through the atmosphere, spread out as if it was a fragrance, blowing into the man's face like wind during a thunderstorm.

He staggered, plummeted on two others that were approaching me. I grinned mischievously, sitting cosily on one of the office chairs to see on my hand mirror whether or not my eyeliner was too smeared. There was no reason to look bad during an attack, was there?

I grinned when I saw three more faces behind me. My foot stuck under the chair as I got up and impelled the chair towards the men. All three went down in a split of a second as the chair let them tumble under its weight. Now was the time.

I ran to the flake-off colour, in-need-of-replacement, closets, tore them open and threw everything that hindered me from searching further out. Unimportant plates, papers and little things such as rubber bands or loose cardboards landed in the fireplace next to me. I took one of the cardboards, and lit it up with a lighter I grasped from a jacket pocket to throw it onto the rest in the fire place. A fire as wild as the world outside aroused.

I groaned in frustration. It wasn't here. I still didn't find it. And I never failed. I wouldn't fail now. No, not an option.

I heard an untamed scream and turned around. One more of them came up to me but, unlike the others, wore a safety vest. How cute, a safety west! My mischievous smile grew bigger.

A challenge.

His hands formed two fists as he was slightly bend forward. He didn't seem to fear a woman, not me at least. But when I approached him, he seemed as if he was rethinking that disposition when my leg collided with his stomach. As he stumbled, he fell back, but got up straight away. My strength took him by surprise.

He tried to grab me repeatedly, but failed in vain every single time, as I grabbed his neck and used my favourite piece of knowledge to steal his consciousness. He tried to stand up at first, but after only splits of seconds he fell onto the ground, unconscious and stunned by my actions. I heard some blaring noises and looked up to look my partner in the eyes. I smiled at her, and when she saw that I had costed the man his consciousness, she smiled back.

I was about to drag the man on the floor somewhere else as his for-the-moment-lifeless body was disturbing me, when I heard steps coming towards me. It wasn't a man's footsteps – they were too elegant and chique for that. It were my partner's ones.

I looked up, which turned out to be my biggest miscalculation as they were burning like they were set on fire the next minute. She had blown the loose powder into my face as well. Why?

My eyes were nearly filled with fear, but I didn't let it take over me, and fought against the distinct feeling of being set on fire to search for her Silhouette in the room. The igniting mirrored her betrayal, and my eyes held a home for them for doing so.

I stumbled, and got pushed towards the glass-thin windows. The fire in my eyes stopped igniting itself over and over again, allowing me to open them. But I was helpless.

My sight was blurred, but I saw a flash of mischief. She kept coming towards me, I ran backwards, but the heel of her shiny black pump was pressed against my throat. I only apprehended splinters break, shatter, crashing, and closed my eyes to protect myself from absolute blindness.

I scarcely even noticed how I fell deep down, extending in a brace of meters per second as if I was weightless, and it was almost a pleasant feeling, until I crashed into the roof of a car, and I felt nothing no more.

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