Hey!

Sorry that it's short! Enjoy! Hope you don't get too confused!

~Lissa

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I despised the color black.

It reminded me of the worst things in life - bruises, nightmares, the darkest hour of the night, and death. Staring out the cracked window, watching the scrawny trees in suspicion, I realized that every inhale and exhale we took was the countdown until we found ourselves completely surrounded by darkness, by the color black itself. The beats of our hearts, the pumping of blood through our veins, the expanding of our lungs, were only temporary. Nothing was permanent - not when life was short. Temporary. Yet, I was wasting days huddled in a cabin, lodged somewhere in the trees of the forest, impatiently waiting for good news. It shouldn't have been taking this long; I should've went with them because -

"No, we already discussed this," a familiar voice came, followed by the groaning of a floorboard behind me. "Stop thinking about it."

I whirled around. "Then, stay out of my head."

Temp was leaning against the nearest wall, his arms folded across his chest. His brown hair was an unwashed, tangled mess and his skin was smudged with dirt. Dark circles rested underneath his light eyes and his clothing, a loose t-shirt and jeans, were raggedy, covered with rips and stains. Underneath the flickering lights, I was capable of seeing his recent wounds, which consisted of bruises and scraps. He exhaled loudly when I turned back around, glaring out the window. The branches of trees shifted with the furious wind while the leaves desperetely clung. The sun was already settling, darkening the forest as the moon powered the endless sky. "Your thoughts are loud - I heard them from the other room, Blue."

'Blue' happened to be the nickname given to me because on my first day, I wore blue nail-polish. It wasn't very creative, but I preferred my nickname over my actual name; at least, I wasn't named 'Temper' for being rambunctious as a baby. Other than 'Temp', there wasn't another nickname for him; multiple times, I had tried creating one that referred to his ability of reading thoughts, though none of them stuck. Without looking at him, I responded, "They're taking too long; something must've gone wrong."

"It's only been a few days," he said, his eyes penetrating my back. "They have a week until we're forced to report - "

"It shouldn't take a week," I interrupted, slowly facing him. His jaw tightened as he looked up at the cobwebbed ceiling, frustrated. "All they're doing is getting information from a coven of witches."

"You're forgetting that they're traveling through a forest," he argued, stepping towards me. His movements were slow and cautious, almost as if he was a predator, prepared to pounce. "Did you forget the dangers? Gypsies? Werewolves? Torments? I believe you're familiar with them."

"You're an ass!" I spat, fury burning inside of me. His eyes flickered towards the mark on my wrist, a black 'x' the size of a button. Several months before, I had fallen victim to a Torment, a creature who created illusions or nightmares inside their victim's head, usually when they were asleep. They retrieved their power from their victim's fear and suffering. Once tired of the particular victim, they easily killed them by raising their heart rate or cutting off their oxygen flow in their sleep - strangely, I wasn't killed. Though, the mark was left behind, representing the torture I had endured. While it proved I was a survivor, it caused panic and hesitation among others at the sight of it; apparently, there were cases where the survivors of Torments had went insane. Thus, few people trusted my intentions or me as an individual. Sometimes, I believed Temp entered my thoughts to see if I was becoming insane.

Before he was able to respond, Archer came waltzing into the room. His green eyes, wide and frantic, looked back and forth between us. He was wearing a tank with baggy sweatpants, revealing his muscled arms, decorated with stitched wounds. His curly blond hair, that usually curled around his ears, was shoved back by his fingers, greasy enough that it stayed. He was smaller than Temp, more lanky, from the sharpness of his elbows and shoulders to his hipbones. "They called - they want us back at the facility."

I frowned. "But, Jason and Vincent are still out there."

"It doesn't matter," Temp said, looking at Archer. "We have been given orders to return to the facility; start packing your things." Angrily, I looked towards Archer who was playing with the tips of his fingers, debating whether or not to speak. Though, I knew he wasn't going to say anything; he looked up to Temp, mainly because he had a couple years on us of training and practice. Because of this, Temp labeled himself the leader of the assignment, expecting all of us to listen. One of the reasons he hated working with me was because I questioned him.

"We're just going to leave them?" I asked, in disbelief. "They might need - "

"When they realize we aren't here, they'll head back to the facility," Temp interrupted, his voice deepening. "Or, the facility will contact them."

"It doesn't feel right."

"You don't have the power to decide what it is or isn't right," Temp said, pointing an accusing finger at me. "Especially with that mark - the only reason you're still being sent on assignments, is because of your brain." His finger pressed against my temple and with a sneer, I slapped his hand away. He huffed and shook his head, ignoring Archer who was watching. "If you weren't so smart, you'd be useless."

"And, if it wasn't for your ability, so would you," I countered, glaring at him. "You may know how to work a weapon and defend yourself without one, but if it wasn't for your ability, you wouldn't be sent on these hard assignments." I folded my arms across my chest, keeping the serious look plastered on my face. He pinched his lips, his eyebrows knitting together. A long moment passed between us; while Temp and I glared at each other, Archer quietly kicked at the floorboards beneath him. Every once in a while, a creak came from the house, maybe a tapping noise from a branch blowing against a window. Whenever Temp and I were placed on the same assignment, which unfortunately was quite frequently, we bickered.

"The reason I'm sent on these hard assignments is because I get the job done," he finally spoke, seriously. "I don't let my emotions interfere, unlike someone." Obviously, he was referring to me, though I wasn't offended. "I'm aware of the risks and sacrifices. I won't wait an extra day for my partners to return, if they're not back within a week, I'm gone. And, I'll thrive in terrible conditions like this - " He gestured towards the cabin with crumbling stairs, a leaking roof, and cracked windows. " - because it's how it works, Blue. It's our job and you're forgetting that. We've been given orders to return to the facility, which is what we'll do without any questions."

"You wonder why no one wants to work with you."

Archer hesitated. "Come on, can we - "

"Because, I stay in line," Temp responded, ignoring Archer. "I actually follow orders." Once again, he was referring to me, though I didn't let his words get to me. "By now, they should know to keep you in the labratory rather than sending you out here with us."

"They send me out here to make sure you idiots don't get killed," I told him, defending myself. "After all, I'm the one with the brains, right?"

"I'm starting to think differently," he replied, harshly. "You haven't done a single thing on this assignment, other than complain."

I huffed. "And, what have you done? Huh? All you've done is order us around, acting like you're better than us." Archer opened his mouth to speak, but I held up a hand, signaling for him to remain silent. "You're right, I haven't done anything on this assignment because you won't listen." He rolled his eyes, moving closer to me. "You see, now that you're listening, I can tell you that our location has probably been discovered since Archer decided to start the fireplace. The smoke definitely gave us away - if you look outside, notice the direction of the wind. It's coming towards us and just a reminder, Torments use air to move around, bouncing from tree-to-tree. Now, if the wind is blowing this way. . ."

Temp's jaw tightened. "You should've told us as soon as possible."

"You wouldn't listen," I repeated, narrowing my eyes.

Archer stepped forward. "He's right, Blue. What if we weren't called back? What if we did stay here for the week? We would've been attacked by Torments."

"She doesn't care," Temp blurted, shaking his head. "She's already suffered from a Torment - she wants us to suffer, like she did."

"Don't turn this around on me," I spat, slapping his chest. With a groan, he stepped backwards, his hands curling into fists. Instantly, Archer leaped forward, shoving himself between the two of us. Despite him always taking Temp's side, I didn't have a problem with him. Reluctantly, I stepped away, backing towards the window while Temp calmed down, taking deep breaths. Feeling him poking around inside my head, I narrowed my eyes and pushed the thought towards him. You're an asshole. I knew he heard because he stiffened, glaring at me through his eyelashes. "Eventually, I was going to tell you - I just noticed this morning the direction of the wind."

Archer shook his head. "Enough arguing." Temp opened his mouth to speak, but decided against it. Archer exhaled loudly in relief and looked back and forth between us. "We were called back to the facility because they've captured a werewolf."

"So? We've captured several werewolves," Temp said, situating himself underneath the flickering light. "Why are we being ordered back over a werewolf?"

"It's no ordinary werewolf," Archer said, slowly. "Do you remember when the facility had those werewolves locked up, capable of magic?" When his eyes landed on me, I nodded, followed by Temp mocking my action. "They've captured one of those werewolves and he's killed several people at the facility. They need our help badly." Archer hesitated, watching me for a long moment. "They need you, Blue. They want you to perform some tests on him."

"Me?" I blurted, shaking my head. "There are plenty of scientists - "

"They want you because of your connection to the supernatural world," he explained, gesturing towards the mark on my wrist. Feeling uneasy, I quickly tugged down the sleeve of my shirt, hiding it. "Maybe you'll figure out how his magic works a-and stuff."

Temp scowled. "How'd they capture him?"

"That's the thing," Archer said, shaking his head. "He was wandering some forest, apparently searching for someone, when a few guards shot him with darts." My stomach twisted inside of me; the darts paralyzed someone, which had to be the worst feeling. "But, Amanda believes it was too easy; she had a fight with him and his friends once before."

"You think he wanted to be captured?" Temp questioned, confused.

"That's what they're thinking," he answered, shrugging. "I-I don't understand why he would want to be captured."

"You're right - they need us," Temp said, nodding his head. "If this is some sick plan, one that involves his friends, and we're all pieces to his game . . . we need to get back to the facility." He shoved his fingers through his hair, taking a deep breath. "Start packing." When I started mentioning how Jason and Vincent were still in the forest, he held up a finger, silencing me. "Enough. Go upstairs and pack, Blue." Reluctantly, after shooting him a sneer, I carefully hurried up the crumbling stairs.