It's safe to say Allen is not in the greatest of moods, Last night has been one of the worst nights he ever had in his life, more than his despair before back when he is trying to find a job when he arrived to the damned city of chicago. Usually, his mood would be a lot worst, unsurprisingly caused by the need for him to work in the hell like environment he got tangled into but luckily, he had managed to lodge in a day off for today after climbing through rows of the massacre of other people who tried to get the day off as well. Currently, Allen is just pinching the bridges of his nose in a mild stressed manner looking at the amount of things he had to pay, his salary is generous but with such a hellish workspace environment and the rising costs of everything alongside the payment for one of his sister's college and then the needs of his family alongside his own, it's not enough.
He wants more, not just for himself, but for his own family as well. But of course, that is easier to be said than done considering his background. Allen sighed, his head leaning back towards the wall behind his bed as he looked towards the ceiling.
"If only I could've done something more.." he thought to himself before he looked towards the book. For some reason, the book felt very different today compared to when it came onto his possession yesterday. It radiates an aura that Allen just couldn't place his fingers on other then it felt like it urges him to read it. And honestly, with nothing better to do anyways Allen figures it wouldn't hurt to continue from last night.
"Alright…lets see here…" Allen mumbles as he flip through the pages, landing back on the basic spell he tried last night. Light Orb.
Repeating the same exact steps as last time, stretching his fingers apart, leaving the center of his palm exposed and then conjure the orb by focusing a sling of energy around him to the center of his palm. As the minutes flew by, his concentration is getting smaller. He still hasn't make progress, not that he expected to considering the silliness in his conduct as of the moment. Apparently, it was normal according to the book as he reads through it.
"Alright..why don't we try to play along a bit more..?" Allen thought to himself, according to his understanding of the 'knowledge' of the book leading to this section, Magic is not something that can just appeared out of thin air, it needed more from the user itself to visualize it and conjure it rather then just letting the 'mana' did all the work blind.
Shrugging his shoulder Allen sigh as he gives it another try, this time making sure to place a clear image of how the orb forming on his hand with his eyes closed. An electrifying sensation flew through his veins, similar of getting shocked by a tiny 9v battery. However, at this point Allen has started to grow a bit restless as he could feel his palm being enveloped by a floating radiating source of warmth.
When he fluttered his eyes open, His eyes went wide as saucers, shocked, his mouth opened halfway also, desperately trying to letting out all sorts of reactions related to shock but to no avail. It's a size of a regular nightstand bulb, radiating a white light that shones brightly while floating on top of his right palm.
"A l-light orb…?! b-but…how..?!" Allen looked at his hands warily, grabbing his right hand with his other hand he attempts calming himself down, breathing in and out as he composes himself.
"Ok…let's try to stop this…think of the opposite…." Allen exhales slowly as he attempts to stop the insanity on his hand, imagining the lights dying down from his hand as the orb follows suit. Putting the book away before he clutchus his face.
"Oh god…" Allen laments, millions of questions running through his mind, is what he saw was real? is his sleep deprivation playing tricks on him? Is this a dream? Many more he wants to ask, but before he could explore all other possibilities his mind is interrupted by a knock at his door.
Allen exhales, composing himself before he slowly rises up from his bed, trying to clear his minds off from how he just summons a light orb as he opens the answer the door however, his mind blanked, his vision wavers and blackens, and his legs lose all their strength, falling forward before he was caught by a few pair of hands, escorted into a black Chevrolet SUV unconscious meanwhile a couple of men doned in suits make their way into Allen's apartment.
"Ugh…this guy's place is absolutely horrible, you sure he really has that?" one of the men asks to the rest as they put on gloves.
"Heh, i'm surprised that this bug even capable of possessing it in the first place"
"Only one damned bastard could..and he's still out there giving it to these pests.."
"He's strong no doubt..but he's just by himself compared to tens of thousands of us, just wait till we find him" a man says before he picks up the book allen read earlier. Signaling the others, closing the door behind him as a huge fire settles in the middle of the room.
—--------------------------
It was safe to say Allen had no idea what happened to him. The black swirls of unconsciousness tugged at his mind before his eyes could register a blur of colors, and... a face.
A face set into a scowl and a gloved hand.
Slowly, the tendrils of darkness receded, leaving Allen confused, dizzy, and sore. The back of his head ached with throbbing waves of pain. It was not unbearable, but it was certainly not a pleasant sensation to wake up to.
He opened his eyes, except that the darkness still filled his vision. A rough, black fabric was laced around his eyes. Allen instinctively acted to remove the blindfold, but his hands only wiggled uncomfortably and helplessly within the tight knot of ropes tied around his wrists.
The muffled overlap of voices washed over him. Panic settled in, seizing his hard with its cold grip. There he was, somewhere, tied down a chair, blindfolded, and not alone. Allen might have been still a bit discombobulated, but it was painfully obvious what was going on.
He tried to speak, to scream, but his voice came out more as a helpless whimper. A ducktape was roughly attached over his mouth, keeping the volume of his protests to a minimum. He struggled, the clatter of chains echoing out.
It was futile, Allen knew it, but his survival instinct demanded no less from him. He wouldn't stop thrashing until he was drained of strength, until his he screamed himself hoarse. The chains clattered harder and harder, almost giving him a link of hope that maybe, just maybe, he'd be able to break free.
His breathing came out in short bursts, a sheen of sweat coating his forehead. His wrists ached from the harsh friction he submitted them to.
The voices stopped. There was a brief lull where only Allen's breathing and fighting could be heard ringing out across the room. Then, with slow yet methodical steps, he heard them approach him.
The staccato of leather shoes tapping against polished tiles grew louder and louder, until they faded, in front of him.
A pair of hands landed on his shoulders, holding him back from further, needless struggle. The blindfold was harshly removed, and a single, glaring source of light seared into his eyes, forcing Allen to look away.
"Ah, Mr. Ramirez. I'm glad you're awake, though we could do without you being so... feisty," the man donned in a spotless suit smiled nonchalantly, a stark contrast to the situation they were in.
Allen observed the man, noticing the federal badge stitched on the left breast of his suit. He heaved a sigh of relief, "Thank God you're here! I... I thought — I heard someone knock, and then... I woke up here... c-can you pleas—" he pleaded, though it was cut short when the man burst into a hearty peal of laughter.
Behind him, four other man, sporting the same suit, held back the amused smiles tugging at their lips.
"Mr. Ramirez, you have such an unmatched sense of humor," the man shook his head, the last vestiges of his laugh petering out. The amused curl of his smile gained a sinister edge, sending a shiver down Allen's spine. He kneeled in front of Allen, "Now, Mr. Ramirez... where is he?"
Allen's mind drew a blank. Where was who?
Why were they not helping him?
What the fuck was going on?
"I don't know what you're talking about, please hel—ahhh!" Allen gasped in pain, the wind knocked out of him. The man's punch sunk into his gut, staying there for a couple of seconds, to let Allen savor each painful jolt that spread through his body.
And when he pulled his hand back, a swirling, concentrated mass of electricity was floating atop his palm, "No... no... no, Mr. Ramirez. I told you I want to know where he is. Because you do know where he is. I don't like lies, Mr. Ramirez. Don't lie to me, Mr. Ramirez."
The man loaded back his fist, coated by blue sparks of electricity, "Why are you making this so difficult, Mr. Ramirez?" then, as if to emphasize his confusion, he socketed his fist into Allen's chest. A sharp, burning pain paralyzed him, nearly stopping his heart in the process. He screamed, feeling every jolt of electricity zapping through his nerve endings.
If the earlier punch was akin to have his veins stabbed by needles, then this one was like being suddenly blinded by white-hot pain, as if his lungs had blown up, and with them, his ability to breathe.
How... why...' Allen thought. Nothing made sense to him. Nothing. He had been given books, as it was usually the case whenever he dropped by the bookstore... yet he could now do, what, magic? How ridiculous. He barely managed to conjure an orb of light, yet he chalked it up to magic. Chances were that he was overstressed, and it was all some pipe dream his tired mind came up.
And now he was being tortured by the government. 'Ironic.
"Surely, Mr. Ramirez, you can take a little more pain... you're not going to die on me, are you?" the man taunted, smile fixed in place. He didn't give Allen time to open his mouth that he immediately gutted him in the stomach with another punch. The currents of electricity traveled through his body, unimpeded, amplifying the pain.
It was like being stung by a horde of insects.
"Where is the man that gave you that book, Mr. Ramirez."
Allen's pain-addled mind managed to come up with a face. He was still a bit confused, not to mention wronged and angry, but finally the pieces of the puzzle started coming together.
"You... you mean the old man?" Allen gulped, sweat dripping down his face, "W-What does he have to do with this?"
He had important info. Info that the man in front of him wanted. It was not much, but perhaps he could use it to save his skin?
"He has everything to do with this," the man growled, though the smile never left his lips. Allen was about to reply, but his head reeled back when it met the man's knuckles.
Pain sieged his senses, but he held his ground, biting through the agony. Something coiled in Allen's stomach. His initial fear had given way to anger. It was unfair. Everything that was happening to him was fucking unfair.
He hated it.
His life. The man in front of him. Those bastards behind him. And the old man who put him in that situation in the first place.
Why couldn't he simply live a peaceful life?
"Allow me to simplify it for you, Mr. Ramirez," the man chuckled, tucking one hand inside his suit and drawing out a gun. Chambering a magazine into it, he pointed the barrel straight into Allen's eyes, his smile curling into a sinister, psychotic grin, "Magic is real, Mr. Ramirez. As real as the bullet about to drill through your brain. You got a taste of it. That is unnaceptable, Mr. Ramirez. Someone as unworthy as you can't wield magic. No one is worthy. We won't let you peasants get your dirty hands over what belongs to us. Make peace with yourself, Mr. Ramirez. There is no magic where you're about to go," he smirked, pulling the trigger.
Allen gritted his teeth and screwed his eyes shut as a deafening noise rang out. He expected death to come fast and swift. A bullet at point blanke range was highly likely to instantly kill him. There would be no pain, or so he hoped.
However, as he waited for the inevitable darkness to reap his life... a sigh went off. Allen tentatively fluttered his eyes open. There was no pain. No death. He was confused at first... until he looked up, at that familiar back, at that familiar man.
"Dear me, it seems like I came right in the nick of time," a voice said, followed by a hearty chuckle, "My apologies, young one. I should have expected this outcome, yet I placed you in such a danger nonetheless. Fear not, I won't let them lay a finger on you."
Allen's eyes widened in shock, "Old man..." he muttered, not knowing whether to be happy or angry at said individual. He was the reason Allen was kidnapped.
"Greetings, Allen. I see that you finally decided to read what I gave you," he chuckled again as he revealed his hand, a bullet floating aimlessly on top of it.