It is nearly three in the morning, and yet I am still wide awake. I cannot fall asleep, no matter how hard I try. My brain is still processing every little thing that Sxy has told me; it is not surprising that I am still in shock after that. In the family where I come from, none of the members are ordinary humans, and neither am I.
I tried everything: jumping off the stairs only to have almost broken an arm, trying to make things move, and controlling the weather. If anyone was with me, they would have called me crazy, and I know Riley would, too, which was why I asked him not to meet for today. I needed to figure out who I really was and if I was really not human. Riley may be from another world, but I could not say for sure that he was not human just like me. The world he was from only contained high technology to be able to create a time-leaping device; however, he had not shown me anything that would make me think of him as a non-human.
Morning comes, and I decide to come back to the manor where Sxy has brought me that day. I familiarize myself with all of the paintings hanging on the walls of the big house. Climbing up the stairs, I carefully lift each foot and walk through the hall of the second floor of the place. There are about six doors up here: three on the left, and then three on the right. The doors are all painted white, while the walls are rusty brown. It looks vintage; every little thing in this home looks like that. But then, that isn't surprising, since I think this manor has been standing here long before my mother and father were even born into this world.
I grab a door handle, sucking in a breath before twisting it, only to find out that it is locked. I let out a relieved sigh, glad to think that I will not need to go inside the room to inspect more about the mysteries of my entire clan, but then I also feel that I need to do that whether I like it or not—it is the only way for me to discover more about them and myself.
"Who's there?" A voice roars through the hallway, and I jump in surprise. It sounds deep and throaty, which makes me think that the owner of the voice is a male. My head turns frantically from left to right, looking to see if there is anyone else in the manor aside from me. Or is it just a ghost?
There is no one. Nobody.
But ice shards begin flying across the room as I crouch down on the ground. My arms cross over my head to shield myself from the sharp icicles. Where the hell did that come from? My eyes roam around, looking for another pair that could be staring right back at me, but there is nothing. There is a presence, though; I can feel it. There is someone else inside this big house—I am not alone. But where? Whoever is in here with me must be good at hiding; perhaps he is also like Sxy and I, who spent most of our lives with our heads hung low and our names a secret. He can also be a member of the Do clan that survived the massacre years ago.
"I asked." The voice echoes through the whole house once more, and it sends a shiver down my spine. It sounds the same as earlier. That can only mean that he has not brought anyone with him, but I shall not celebrate that I will only need to deal with just one person, for this one is not human and can kill in one strike. I swallow hard. "Who is there?" He repeats as my head turns to every corner of this manor, hoping that I can get a glimpse of him, but to no avail.
"Katarina." I answer with a shaky voice. My eyes are staring at the brick wall in front of me. I know he can see me; I know he is hiding; and I know that he is wondering why I am here. My mouth opens once more to speak my full name. "Katarina Do."
I hear a thud. My head snaps towards my left, but there is no one standing there. He must have jumped off the spot he is hiding from. I look to the other side—no one. My feet step backwards, and my hands reach behind me to feel the cold and hard wall. But instead of it, I feel muscles under the palms of my hands. Biceps, triceps, and a chest with a heart that beats. Gasping out loud, I turn. In front of me stands a man, who I assume is the owner of that deep and throaty voice. A mask is on his face, and his eyes have a dark glow of silver ash. He has a scar on his eyebrow.
"Do, you say?" he whispers, his voice dropping an octave as he stares me down. His dark silver eyes intimidate me, but I do not concede. I plant my heels hard on the ground while holding his gaze, faking it until he decides to be the first to look away. His hair—long ebony strands that rest upon his broad and wide shoulders—sways with the wind as he takes one more step toward me. He stands before me, breathing low and steady, his ashy eyes looking deep into my soul. "You are a member of the Do clan, are you not?"
I swallow. "Yes, I am. What is it to you?" I hear a snicker, and although I cannot see his face, I just know that he is smirking underneath that mask of his. If only I could tear that piece of cloth from him, I would be able to remember his features and remind myself to never let our paths cross again. The gray-eyed man steps back, creating a small distance between the two of us as I release a breath of relief. But it is too early for me to do that—ice glues my feet to the ground and slowly crawls up my legs. My breath hitches, sucking more air than I am supposed to. I look at him with pleading eyes. "A—are you a member of the Do family, too?"
"I have no family. I belong to no one. I am my own person."
The ice is carefully and slowly encasing me. My heart is throbbing in my chest, my eyes are burning, and my throat hurts. I shouldn't have come here. It has not crossed my mind that this will be the day that I die. Swallowing fear, my mouth opens to ask, "Who—who are you? What are you doing here if you are not from the Do family?"
His silver eyes remain on me, and I dare not to look away, not to make it seem that I am afraid of him. My own eyes follow him—his every step, every movement. I do not want him to leave my sight, as he can attack me at any time and kill me. I do not want to die just like that, not when I still have not found the truth about the murder of my family—why they all had to die. He gets close, and my breath catches in my throat. I cannot move, and even if I do, I know that I cannot fight him and that I will die anyway. The silver-eyed man with ice as his power, lifts a hand, takes off the mask on his face, and I gasp at the sight of him.
Before me is the most handsome man I have ever seen. I always think it is impossible—no one can ever be more beautiful than Riley.
"You took a lot from me," he whispers. I can feel his hot breath on my skin; it sends shivers down my spine. I will swing my hand and slap him hard if only I can move.
I repeat my question. "Who are you?"
"One of those who despises the entire Do clan." A smirk forms on his face. The scar on his eyebrow is quirking up as he does so. I try to pull my hands up, but the ice keeps them in place. I grunt lowly, and he chuckles. "Don't bother, princess; it is no use. You cannot escape from me."
I glare at him. "You haven't answered my question—who are you? What did we ever do to you? Are you one of those people who murdered my family?"
"Me?" He snorts. I watch his eyes roll as he turns away and takes two steps forward. "Oh, no—I am not one of them. Although I am now planning to do the same thing." A gasp escapes from me as my eyes widen at his admission. What could we have done to him if he felt immense anger toward us? They all have chosen to conceal their powers; they know about the consequences of using them as much as they want! Don't tell me—
"Elios..." I whisper, and his head snaps in my direction. Our eyes meet, causing me to suck in another breath as he paces towards me. His reaction to the name proves that he knows who I am talking about. I swallow the next words that are hanging on my tongue. The glare in his gray eyes tells me that I should not have mentioned the hero's name. With each step, the ice digs into my skin, piercing through, and I cannot help but let out a loud cry. "Please..." I beg.
"Elios—how dare you speak of that name in front of me?"
I groan. I lift my head as the ice stops right around my neck. I am almost completely enveloped with it, and I am pretty sure the blue is getting mixed up with the color of my blood. "He—he was a part of the Do—" He interrupts me.
"He is a part of the family!" He screams, but it is not out of anger. It sounds more like a cry of pain—a wail. I stare at him. He looks distracted. His lips are trembling, as if holding back the tears in his dark gray eyes. I turn to the side and catch a glimpse of Elios's painting, and then quickly gaze at him again. He and Elios look alike. Could it be....?
He draws out a breath, as if calming himself. Suddenly, he becomes enclosed in his own superpower and then—gone. So is the one that is wrapping around me up to my neck. My knees wobble, and I fall on them. I wince at the pain from the cuts I get from them before looking back up at the person standing in front of me. And I cannot believe it....
"Hunter...?"