The crow perched on the witch's shoulder let out a caw, it's magic translating the sound into words she could understand. She'd been standing above the box-like structure made for the door to the rooftop where the light from the lamp posts didn't reach, watching as the doctor fought her puppets like the clumsy and untrained human that she was. She didn't understand why their mistress was so fixated on the woman, though as she soon as she saw the changes she knew.

She'd send word immediately through the Wakwak on her shoulder, who was instructed to remain a bird just in case they'd need an immediate escape. She herself would have to shift into a creature that could fly should things go south, though perhaps something with larger wings to make up for the time she would need to use her magic.

Unlike the Wakwak, the witch wasn't bound to transforming into a crow, and she would need to become something faster if she was to make it out of there in time. She had to remain in her human shell as she used her magic to control her puppets, and should the Elementals arrive, her life would surely depend on some few precious seconds.

She tugged at her invisible strings to stop the nurse from cutting the doctor's throat. As soon as their mistress' order reached her, she didn't really have much choice. It didn't matter if she wanted the doctor dead, if she'd gone through with it she was sure her punishment would be worse than death.

Such waste, she thought, remembering the trouble she'd gone through to get the nurses under her control. Getting them to drink her potion had not been easy - she had to pretend she was some new employee manning the doctors' pantry - and all had been for naught for the mistress had ordered not to harm the damn woman.

The witch had expected it though, if she were to trust her own eyes. For as soon as the doctor had gone down to the floor, her eyes had began to change into a color even she knew all too well. At least now she understood why their mistress had been so insistent in pushing the doctor over the edge. Though whether to take that knowledge as good news for her people was something yet to be decided on.

Still down on the floor, Rina's eyes widened. The intense pain on her back had turned to numbness though the fog in her mind had all but gone away. She was too preoccupied by the sight before her to dwell on the fact, however. What she was seeing was unlike anything she'd ever laid eyes on.

Threads of varying shades and hues danced in the air in a slow free-flowing movement. She could tell each strand apart even as they continued to uncoil and recoil before her. Like tangible thin strips of light they glowed with radiance, gently flickering as if alive. And perhaps they were, she thought, as her eyes trailed along the length of the wispy ends towards the human-like figure hovering above her. For whenever she squinted her eyes, an image of the nurse overlapped with the form made by the bundled strings like a translucent layer, as if the threads themselves made up the human shell.

She felt an unfamiliar detachment descend on her, like cold water splashed over her panic and fear. It was then that she noticed, simply as a fact, that the blade had stopped its descent, the sharp bloodied tip just almost piercing the skin on her neck. She narrowed her eyes again and saw the transparent image of the nurse frozen in place. Whatever happened had saved her from a slow death and she dared not question it.

Rina calmly slid out from under the blade and slowly sat herself up with her legs splayed on the dirty floor. She sensed no threat, not anymore, though how she was able to tell escaped her. There were no dangers humming in the air, no ill-intent mixed in with the pulsing lights. It was a gut feeling perhaps, an undeniably strong one - one she couldn't deny.

She stared at the dancing threads again and wondered to herself what they were. It was a weird feeling altogether - the sudden peace, the easy acceptance, the pure intellectual curiosity. And though she knew it didn't make sense for her to react that way, she couldn't find it in her doubt it. It seemed to her some form of lucid dreaming, like she was conscious and in control and yet felt no concern over the absurdity of the whole thing.

Casually, she reached a hand out towards the strings, as if their glow had somehow cast a spell over her. She felt drawn to the alluring lights, her fingers itching to touch the life she reckoned they held. Were they really as tangible as they seemed? Were they real enough to touch? She wondered to herself what would happen if she disturbed them.

She touched one of the green threads first, its shade darker than the others, close to the color of dry seaweeds. As soon as her forefinger made but a point contact with the fluttering end, she felt a strong sense of discontentment form in her chest, the kind fueled by a subtle form of hatred towards the brimming success of every other person in the world.

Damn the consultants flaunting their accomplishments, she thought, with their expensive cars and arrogant remarks. Every time she met their eyes she knew they were looking down at her. Those residents were the same, just because they'd gotten their licenses. Some of them had been her classmates in college, used to be nurses just like her. And yet now they were earning thrice as much, sauntering around the hospital asking her to take care of their patient files and get them their stupid lab reports. Her brother, the lawyer, had recently bought a house, and her sister, the doctor, had--

Rina jerked her hand back, frowning. She most certainly didn't have a sister, and her brother was still in college getting a degree in tourism, not law. She harbored no ill feelings towards her co-residents either, except maybe Dana who had always left them to pick up after her responsibilities, making their lives harder. And there was no reason for her to hate the consultants. She was, after all, working her way to becoming just like them. Certainly the thoughts had not been hers.

She looked up, squinting at the image of the nurse still frozen in his place like a still picture. Were they his? Surely, she reckoned,there could be no other explanation. Those thoughts filled with so much envy could only have come from the nurse.

Staring at the threads again it then occurred to her, that shades of green dominated the strings filling up the human shell. She followed the one she'd just touched with her eyes and found that after every twine and curve, the thin light disappeared into a tighter bundle on the man's chest. Where the heart would've been was a ball of colors like yarn where all strings seemingly ended, or perhaps more accurately, began.

The doctor wondered what exactly they were. Where they emotions given form? Or perhaps it was his life she was seeing, segregated into a million fine threads.

She dared touch another one, a pale yellow the shade of young corn, and a serene sort of happiness sparking from hope and simple answered prayers warmed her chest. As soon as faces of children flooded her mind though, she dropped her hand and broke contact. She recognized some of them as patients in the pediatric ICU, terminally ill and fighting for their lives with lonely smiles and hopeful eyes.

True enough, she thought as she looked back at the tightly woven bundle, the lights were the man's life. Or at least those things that made up who he was.

She watched the ball of thread as it continued to slowly move and pulse, amazed at the different colors and shades that made a rainbow seem pale in comparison. There were striking golds, bright pinks, blues the shade of expensive sapphire gems. Her brows furrowed when her eyes landed on peculiarly dark strings. While there were others of the same dark hue, their glows had given away their true shade. But three strings in particular seemed too dark, like pure darkness glowing, jutting out like tensioned wires to some place further behind the man.

It didn't make sense, she thought, for the color black to be glowing. Perhaps shimmering would be a more appropriate description. Whatever she chose to call it though, wouldn't change the fact that they seemed odd amidst the threads that somehow screamed of life. Unlike them, the black strings seemed dead and lifeless, and didn't belong in the magical display.

Moving slowly she stood from the floor, peering to the side to get a glimpse of the other end. But before her sight could trail further, the thread broke off from the bundle, recoiling from the tension. As if pulled at by some force, it receded into the shadows, disappearing before her eyes.

Rina turned towards the darkness where the light from the lamps failed to reach and saw a bundle of threads forming a lone figure standing above a concrete structure. While the threads still pulsed with color they mostly seemed dimmer - darker - like a black veil had been pulled over them.

Cold sweat formed on the witch's forehead as she stared back at the doctor. Calling back her magic had taken a good while that she had obviously been spotted. She wasn't supposed to be seen, her worth banking on her anonymity. If the other woman had seen her face, she was most certainly done for.

In a rush of panic, the witch pulled at the last three strings, severing connection and control of the nurse that seemed to have been the doctor's friend. But as the strings made their way to her, the doctor moved closer, limping towards her hiding place.

She should not be seen, she thought as she concentrated on her magic, she couldn't allow it. She was yet to witness the rise of her kind and to go down for a stupid mistake was the last thing she would've imagined for herself.

The witch turned to the Wakwak and told her to fly off and distract the doctor while she shifted, to which the pathetic little thing hesitantly agreed to with a soft caw.

Rina narrowed her eyes at the figure shrouded in darkness. She could make out the mass of frizzy hair covering its head and its tall lanky physique. But the shadows were too dense for her to make out any more of its features.

She should've been scared and nervous at the thought of some creature spying on her, or worse that the creature was more than likely the reason for the nurses' violent behavior. But as she worked her way slowly towards the stranger, she felt nothing - not a skip in the beat of her heart, not a buzz of panic in her nerves. The eerie sort of peacefulness she'd felt since coming out of her daze had remained. She felt detached and unconcerned - above the fear and worries that often crippled human potential.

She dared not pry her gaze away from the unknown figure as she shuffled her way towards it for fear that it might suddenly disappear. But what exactly did she want to do? Did she simply wanted to see who it was? And afterwards, what then? Was she supposed to just let it be on its way?

Rina could only purse her lips as the answer came to her. For of course it wouldn't be so simple. Otherwise she would've escaped and be done with the whole thing. What she needed was confirmation that the creature had done something to the nurses. And if it did, she wondered, what was she going to do about it?

If it did she would have to punish it, she thought. Though where the idea had come from, she couldn't say. All she knew was she needed to fulfill the strong desire to deliver retribution, simply because her instincts left no doubt that it should be delivered. And what gave her the right to be the one dealing it? She almost laughed at her own stupid thoughts. She was of a race far above all others - who else should be the judge of their wrong doings if not her and her people?

The doctor stopped short, brows furrowing in confusion. Did she really just think that? She stared down at her own hands, which to her surprise hadn't changed. What was happening to her?

Her thoughts were cut short by a sudden shrill caw and she looked up too late to avoid the bird flying straight for her head. She took small steps back as she tried swatting it away with her hands as it attacked her. She could feel bites and scratches all over her arms as it pecked and clawed at whatever skin it could get at. Half blinded she tripped at some small protrusion on the floor, her still-sore behind hitting the hard concrete when she went down.

All of a sudden the calmness she felt was gone, dissolving like mist under the glaring heat of the sun. The pain came rushing back like a towering wave crashing back to the ocean. She closed her eyes and screamed, her throat suddenly feeling raw and overused.

Rina stilled when she felt the assault stop. In the darkness she heard the flap of two sets of wings, the sound receding into the distance.

Her heart hammered in her chest, sweat trickling down her back and her forehead, as she lowered her arms to her sides. She felt lightheaded and dizzy, her thoughts muddled and confused. She wondered to herself what had happened, though the answer was clearly beyond her understanding.

The loud creaking of wood from behind her made her jump and open her eyes. She scrambled on the floor to face where the sound had come from, expecting worse things to come pouncing from the darkness. Black spots formed in her hazy vision from the movement and she groaned. Every inch of her body felt sore and sticky from blood and sweat. She had never felt so physically beaten.

"Rina!"

She looked up at the worried voice calling her name, squinting her eyes in an attempt to focus her blurred vision. She knew that voice, she thought, and felt relief wash over her.

"A-Adam," she managed to say, her throat feeling dry and scratched.

She heard him running towards her and in seconds was crouched beside her on the floor, his hands hovering over her back, unsure of where it was safe to place them. She could barely make out his face in the dim light as his eyes darted all over her body, cursing under his breath when he saw the large wound adorning her back. He gently probed her head with his fingers and cursed again at blood matting her hair.

"Dammit! Rina, I'm sorry." The guilt in his voice was evident. "I shouldn't have let this happen. I should've gotten here sooner." He gingerly placed a hand on her right cheek, the other removing the strands of her hair that had stuck to her damp face.

Rina tried shaking her head but couldn't. The throbbing had worsened and the pain on her back was becoming unbearable as it pulsed. She turned her eyes up to Adam and heard him gasp, his hazel eyes wide in the dim light.

Whatever he saw, she couldn't force herself to ask, and so she simply watched as his mouth continued to open and close. He was telling her something, but for the life of her couldn't understand a word of it. She could only hear a buzzing in her ear, slowing growing louder as her head continued pounding.

Perhaps it was because she was finally able to relax that her body suddenly felt heavy. She wasn't alone anymore, and she felt safe with Adam with her. Even her heart had stopped its frantic beating, her nerves settling into a calm.

Her eyes felt heavy and she fought the urge to close them. But she felt too tired and spent, the peace offered by sleep too appealing to resist. She just wanted the pain to go away and knew that the moment she closed her eyes they would be gone.

The next thing she felt was her body being lifted off the ground, her head meeting solid human chest. At that moment, there was no strength left in her to even protest, so she simply sunk into Adam's warmth, grateful for the feeling of security his arms offered.

Rina finally closed her eyes then, ignoring the part of her that warned her of sleeping when she probably has a concussion. She knew she'd also lost a good amount of blood, and the risk of her slipping into a coma was high. But the drowsiness was too hard to refuse, especially with the comforting smell of fresh wood and earth enveloping her senses whenever she drew in a breath.

She'd be fine, she told herself, Adam was there and nothing would dare come near them. She could be wrong, for all she knew, and she might never be able to wake up again. But at the moment she felt too tired and beaten to even care.

With a final sigh she let her consciousness drift off. The last thing she heard as she resigned herself to the darkness was the calming sound of rustling leaves and the gentle creaking of wood.

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A/N: First I wanna say thank you for all of you who've stuck with the story 'til now. :) Very sorry for the long wait. Still not too sure about this chapter actually. :P
What do you guys think? :)