[No one]

Blood dribbled on the floor. Drop by drop, like a calm rain. The scenery wasn't anything like a rain though. The once white concrete floor was filled with droplets of crimson red blood.

The Watcher mask on the floor was shattered into pieces. The blood was splattered around it.

The temperature dropped below zero, despite it being already spring. The air was freezing. Grian's breath came out as fog, like it would during winter.

He was frozen where he stood. All the warning bells in his head were ringing louder than a fire alarm, but he couldn't move. He couldn't even scream.

          The Watcher above him was slowly swinging back and forth. The string around their neck glowed bright for a moment. Then it snapped and the weight that had been hanging from it fell. They collapsed on the floor, into the blood that had leaked from their wounds.

The left side of their face was covered in blood that bubbled from the deep cut that had torn their eye out. The back of their shirt was torn and covered in blood. Their wings had been ripped out.

Grian watched in horror as they laid on the floor lifeless. He was sure they were dead. He really wished Xavier would be there with him, but the Fallen was nowhere to be felt.

          Then their head snapped upwards. Their pitch black eye pierced through his soul and their cold fingers wrapped around his ankle. A blood curling scream escaped from his mouth as he tried to jump back, only to realise that he couldn't move.

His heart was beating faster. He was filled with fear as the pitch black eye stared at him. The other eye was missing, which made them look even scarier than they already were.

"Help us..." they whispered in a raspy and broken voice. The words echoed through his head over and over again.

The temperature dropped more. Now it was closing to -20°C and he was freezing in his sweater. They didn't seem bothered by the sudden change.

"You won't let us die, will you..?" they asked. His spine shivered as the words began echoing in his head. They were like a silent cry for help. A cry for help that would never arrive. Nobody would come.

"You won't let him kill all of us, will you..?" they continued. Now it sounded desperate. So desperate that he felt pain pierce through his heart.

He tried to step back, but his body was still frozen in the place. He couldn't move. He wanted to, but it was impossible.

Then another group of cold fingers wrapped around his ankle, just above the others. He felt them pull him, pull him closer to the Watcher who was staring at him desperately. A silent call for help.

"We haven't done anything to you... You can help us... You can set us free... You can spare us..." Their voice had a blaming tone. It filled him with guilt, even if he didn't know why. Why would he feel guilty for something he knew nothing of?

"Last time... You let them all die... You turned your back on us... You killed him... But you didn't free us... You left us in the darkness..." Their blaming tone was directed towards him. He felt chills go down his back. It felt as if his sins were crawling down his back.

"The darkness... It's so cold... So terrifying... We wanted to see the light... You didn't let us... You could have let us... But you didn't... You left us all die... We screamed for you to help us... Our cries went to deaf ears... Nobody came..." They taunted, gripping into his leg even tighter with their cold fingers. Now the black nails buried into his skin.

"I dOn'T kNoW wHo YoU aRe!" he finally managed to scream, but was shocked by his voice. It didn't sound like his own. It was glitchy and raspy. His hand slapped over his mouth

"You don't know who I am..?" they asked in disbelief. Their gaze was now burning him.

"I dOn'T... hOw WoUlD i KnOw..?" he answered in the voice he didn't recognise as his own.

"You know exactly who I am... You should recognise me... You know who I am..." they whispered. Their tone was cold as ice. The words felt as if they were wrapping around him, trying to make him feel even more guilty for whatever they had done, or left undone.

         Their nails buried even deeper into the flesh of his ankle. He tried to cry in pain as it hurt, despite not being even near the worst pain he had felt during his dangerous life.

"How can you not know me..?" they rasped out as black liquid fell from their eye and mouth.

He wanted to run. He wanted to run as fast as he could and never see them ever again. But he couldn't. He was frozen. His body didn't listen to his commands. He couldn't run away. He couldn't escape the consequences of his actions. Actions he didn't even know that existed.

"I did so much for you... Yet you couldn't even save me... You thought I was fine... But we were all trapped... You knew we were trapped... You had seen it all... Yet you ignored it... You abandoned us... You abandoned me..." they laughed in their raspy voice. It had a tone of disbelief. They couldn't believe how he hadn't saved them. They couldn't believe how he had been so heartless.

"I dOn'T kNoW wHaT yOu'Re TaLkInG aBoUt!" he cried out, filled with fear. The unfamiliar voice that came from his mouth didn't help his situation. He didn't understand whose voice it was. It sounded similar to his, but it wasn't his.

"Wait... Have you not awaken yet..? Are you still living in this tiny world of yours..? Do you not know about this at all..? Or are you just trying to fool me..? Trying to make me believe that you don't remember so I would leave you alone..? Are you trying to use me..?" Every single word hurt him more and more. He didn't understand, but he wanted to. He wanted to help, but he didn't know if he could. He didn't want the guilt weighting him down.

"I cAn HeLp YoU iF yOu TeLl Me HoW tO!" he exclaimed. They let out a haunting laughter that made his spine shiver.

"You..? Think you can help me again..? You don't even know what you've done... You'll probably just give us false hope and abandoned us again... You don't remember what his doing... You don't remember the terrors so many went through... You can't help us... You can't set us free if you can't even carry the weight of the guilt have for letting us die..." Their words made something spark in his chest. His breath hitched and he grasped the fabric of his sweater.

"You're just now awakening, aren't you..? You will run out of time before that happens... You will let us die again..." they taunted. He froze at the words. What did they mean by 'again'?

What the hell was going on? How had he gotten himself in this situation? How would he get out? Who was the Watcher? Who did they speak of? How had he let them die? How were they going to die again if they already once died? What had he done?

Questions spin through his head like a toy train running circles around its rails. He had so many of them, but yet he had no answers. He didn't have a single answer. He needed something, anything.

Then something flashed before his eyes: a memory.

         A laughter rang through the air. He saw five people on a field. All the figures' faces were blurry and he couldn't recognise them. Behind him was a tree that he had leaned against. A white haired figure was sitting next to him on the left, reading a book. On the right was a pumpkin orange haired figure hanging from tree with their legs. In front of them was a ginger haired figure who seemed annoyed by something about the other. On his left, next to the white haired one was a figure with shoulder length pink hair. They were looking into the field.

On the field, surrounded by flowers, was sitting a sandy blonde figure. The laughter that filled the air was theirs.

        Then the picture changed. The grass had turned gray and the leaves of the tree had scattered dead on the ground. The white haired figure held their hands against their face. Blood was tickling down from their eyes. The pumpkin orange haired figure was sitting on the ground, holding a dagger to their heart. Half of their face was completely black with a white dot as an eye and a white line as a smile. The other half of their face was still blurry. The ginger haired one was gone, vanished away. The pink haired figure was tangled up in strings.

The sandy blonde was sitting in a pile of bloody Watchers. Chains tied them down, preventing them from flying to their freedom.

        Grian's eyes snapped open. He gasped for air as his body flew up to a sitting position. Sweat was pouring down his face. His heart was beating too fast. He was shaking.

Soon he recognised his surroundings. He was back in the G-team's base. His eyes shifted to the floor immediately, but there was nothing. Not a single drop of blood stained the white concrete. There wasn't a single trace of the Watcher.

He sighed, forcing himself up. It must have been a nightmare. He had probably passed out from overworking himself.

Then he felt a pain in his ankle and turned to look down. His eyes widened and he stumbled back in shock.

He had ten bloody scars in his right ankle.

Words: 1660

[6.5.2022]

(What is that I see? It's motivation! :D)

(Blake's birthday. He's 22 in 2018.)

(5 facts:

1. He was the first one to be promoted to a Main in the book. He was promoted to be Quinn's "replacement" after her death.

2. His name is Preneth Malum.

3. He and Upton are close and childhood friends. They have a server together.

4. And for some reason I still keep thinking his hair is red, even if its actually brown.

5. He was the Leads' leader after Adralia, and most of the people think he's the first Lead leader because they don't remember Adralia.)