Wyatt was getting agitated. Ever since his eye had lost sight, he'd been hearing a little voice in his head. It whispered evil thoughts to him, convinced him to kill everyone in his sleep. He'd had a hard time keeping focused ever since he'd woken up in the bathtub and found out he was sleeping with one of the kitchen knives. He'd gotten to the point where he requested a door with a lock from the outside that could only open in the morning.

The new boy Dagger stared blankly at the wall. His hands were covered in bright silver gloves that didn't match with his black t-shirt and clashed with his jeans. His entire face bugged Wyatt. His features were very sharp, from his nose to his prominent cheekbones. His eyes were an unnatural silver that reminded Wyatt of voids.

Then again, Wyatt wasn't much better.

Dagger stared at the wall with an empty look. He seemed like he was trying to remember what his life was before entering the hellhole of working under Royce.

Cassie watched Wyatt as he rubbed his head. She had continuously conjured sparks from the tip of her index finger, which left the entire room electrified so that everybody's hair stuck in different directions and received random, painful static shocks.

Chase had been quiet and now he sat down on a chair, rocking back and forth as he shut his eyes and opened them every ten minutes.

The silence was awkward. All Wyatt could hear was the crackle of electricity and the silent breaths of the other three.

"Ah, the joy of silence," a voice in Wyatt's head laughed, "Makes you think about the bad, and then you start killing them."

Wyatt grabbed the sides of his head. "Shut up, just shut up."

Cassie turned to him. "Excuse me?"

Wyatt managed a weak smile. "Nothing."

Chase sighed and stood up. "I'm going out. This silence is going to make me go crazy and kill someone."

"Same," Cassie stated, following Chase out of the door.

Wyatt winced.

"See, even your innocent, pure brother and your girlfriend say the same."

Wyatt did his best to ignore the voice and turned to Dagger. "How's your head?"

Dagger turned around and stared at him with those cold, unsettling eyes before sighing and digging his nail into the wooden windowsill. His black hair fell over his eyes. He looked a lot older than what he actually was. "I don't really know anymore. I feel like there's so many secrets that I have to work for, and I'm just... impatient." He tilted his head to the side. "You look kind of familiar."

"Kill him."

Wyatt gulped and nodded.

"Who's that in your head?"

He froze. In a hoarse voice he whispered, "How did you know?"

Dagger shrugged like it was no big deal. "Royce improved my sight, my hearing, and my smell so much, it's practically like I'm a super human. I can see everything, from the tiniest details to something that could be a few hundred miles away. I can hear your thoughts, and I can smell what a family is cooking from the nearest town from here. He sniffed. " Chicken Parmesan," and made a face.

Wyatt laughed. "What's wrong with that?"

"I can't taste or feel. I can't taste flavors. It'll just be salty, sweet, or bitter to me. When I touch a surface, it's just like these tiny electric shocks going through me. " Dagger studied the gloves on his hands. "These gloves give me the ability to feel."

Wyatt smiled forcefully and stood up, bugged about the new boy. "I'm going to leave. I have some practice to do in the arena."

Dagger stood up. "OK then."

The last thing Wyatt saw were Dagger's pale moonlight eyes, watching him with intense focus, as if he were trying to remember where he'd seen Wyatt before he lost his memory.

Wyatt walked quickly to the arena. He pushed open the door and rushed to the wall filled with weapons.

"Take the sword that man beat you up with two days ago," the voice suggested.

Wyatt found the blood-encrusted blade and carefully took it off the shelf. He walked to one of the stuffed dummies and put the cold flat metal of the blade to his forehead before taking a deep breath.

"Relax, my dear Wyatt. Think about what happened that day. Do you still hate the man's guts every time you see that flashback?"

Wyatt swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded.

"Focus on the dummy. Pretend it's him. Pretend you're back in the situation. How would you have acted differently?"

"I would've reacted quicker... and killed him," Wyatt murmured in a daze.

"Practice your swordplay. Remember, pretend it's him. Don't think, Wyatt. Just act. Do you hear me?"

 They spent the rest of the time like that. Wyatt slashed and hacked down the dummies like they were butter. Meanwhile, the voice in his head laughed and gave him pointers and encouragement.

He had made the arena look like a dump of lawn clippings when Cassie suddenly burst into the room. "Wyatt," she said.

He cut the head off of the second to last one and spun around. "What happened?" The words were more by instinct, however, for adrenaline and exhaustion had turned his mind into a racing, blood pounding mess of thoughts.

"Chase... he's doing it again."

That caught his attention. A sickening feeling weighted his stomach down. "Oh no... another prophecy?"

Chase's prophecies were never good. The last one he spouted was during Thanksgiving and had predicted a mass of angry hornets, in which it had happened a week after.

They found Chase sitting in corner of his bedroom, holding his hands over his ears. He had been crying.

"Stop... it's not true... you're lying to me... it's too loud!" he shouted.

Wyatt cautiously approached him. "Chase? It's me, Wyatt. Can you hear me?"

Chase stopped mumbling and looked up at Wyatt with his brilliant blue eyes.

Without any warning, he jumped up and tackled Wyatt to the ground.

Wyatt grunted and fell back, Chase's full weight on him. He gasped for air.

Very mysteriously, almost in a dying tone, Chase chanted,

"One will be destroyed by the clock and skull,

Havoc shall rain down upon the earth,

While a new hero is proving their worth,

Allegiance, betrayal, and hate might increase the death rate,

For the savior's revenge will determine everyone's fate."

Wyatt closed his gaping mouth. Cassie looked stunned as Chase slowly recovered, sitting back and rubbing his head in confusion. "What happened?"

Wyatt stammered. "You were just spouting prophecies."

"Was I?" Chase shook his head. "It probably won't happen. Prophecies don't exist in our world, right, Wyatt?"

*****

Mystery Person 2

She sat on the roof of her new house. It was very tall, and she enjoyed it that way.

She wondered about her family, then shook her head. Families were useless. That's why she ran away.

She opened her palm and conjured a swirling bubble of air. The sky. That was her magic.

A sudden faint voice echoed through her head. A prophecy about a hero, allegiance, hate, and a war.

She shook her head.

"I must've gotten up too early this morning. Prophecies never come true anyway."