Warlock Ch 6. Run!
"I don't see anyone," he muttered, but his hand instinctively clenched, the mark on his palm tingling.
Evelyn stopped suddenly, her eyes narrowing as she looked ahead. "You won't see it… until it's too late."
The shadows around them shifted, and Damian's breath caught in his throat. For a moment, it was as if the darkness itself was alive, crawling toward them, swirling and coiling like smoke. Then, from the corner of his eye, he saw it—a figure, barely visible, but unmistakably moving toward them, its shape blending with the night.
"Is that…?" Damian began, his voice barely above a whisper.
Evelyn's hand shot out, gripping his arm. "Run."
Before Damian could react, she yanked him forward, and they sprinted down the alley. The shadow behind them moved faster, slithering through the darkness like a predator closing in on its prey. Damian could feel it now—a cold, suffocating presence creeping closer, its hunger palpable.
"What is that thing?" he gasped, his legs burning as he tried to keep pace with Evelyn.
"One of Malthus's shadows," she said, her voice tight with urgency. "It's a piece of him, sent to track you down. If it catches us…"
She didn't need to finish the sentence.
Damian pushed himself harder, his breath coming in ragged gasps as they rounded a corner, slipping deeper into the maze of backstreets. He could feel the shadow gaining on them, its cold tendrils reaching out, brushing his awareness like a warning.
"Here," Evelyn suddenly veered to the right, dragging him into an abandoned building. The door slammed behind them, and she muttered something under her breath, tracing her fingers across the frame. A faint glow appeared, sealing them inside, if only for a moment.
Damian leaned against the wall, struggling to catch his breath. "What now? We can't outrun that thing forever."
Evelyn turned to face him, her expression serious. "You need to learn how to use your powers, Damian. Your power isn't just some passive thing you can ignore. If you're going to survive, you have to fight."
"I don't even know where to start," Damian said, his voice raw. "I don't know anything about magic."
"That's why I'm here," Evelyn said firmly. "I can help you learn to use your abilities before it's too late. But you have to trust me."
Damian stared at her, his mind racing.
Trust her? He barely knew her!
And yet, everything in him was screaming that she was his only shot at making it through this alive. The mark on his hand pulsed again, reminding him of the power lurking inside him.
"Okay," he said finally, his voice low but steady. "What do I do?"
Evelyn nodded, her eyes softening just slightly. "First, we need to deal with the shadow outside. Then, I'll teach you everything you need to know."
Damian swallowed hard, glancing toward the door where the shadow waited, hungry and relentless. His fingers flexed, the faint tingling of magic sparking on his palm.
It was time to stop running.
A loud bang echoed through the abandoned building, the door shaking violently as something—no, a bunch of people—was trying to break through. It made her seal crack.
Damian flinched, the sound snapping him back into the present. His pulse quickened, and he shot a look at Evelyn, who was already moving.
She raised her hand and traced a pattern in the air, her lips murmuring words Damian couldn't quite make out. This time, another faint shimmer of light appeared over the door, like a thin layer of glass, barely visible but undeniably there. A barrier. Stronger than the previous seal.
"That'll buy us some time," she said, her voice tense but steady.
"Some time?" Damian's eyes darted from the glowing door back to her. "How much time?"
"Not enough," she replied, her tone grim. She didn't even look at him, her focus entirely on the task at hand. "Listen, I don't have time for a full lesson right now, but you need to learn how to use your magic. And you need to learn fast."
Damian swallowed hard, his throat dry. "Learn fast? I don't even know where to start."
She shot him a quick, sharp glance. "You've already got magic inside you. That mark on your hand? That's proof. Your Warlock's Contract is active, and that means you can cast spells. You just need to focus."
"Focus? Evelyn, I don't even know how to—"
Another loud bang cut him off, louder this time. The door shuddered as something slammed against it, the barrier flickering slightly under the pressure.
"Damian!" Evelyn's voice snapped him back. "You don't have time to doubt yourself. The spell is already in you—you just have to feel it. It's like instinct. Trust it. Don't think, just act."
Damian stared at her, his mind spinning.
Instinct? Feel it? That didn't help at all!
He didn't have years of training or whatever she had. All he had was a faint pulse of magic in his veins and a vague understanding that he could shoot something called [Dark Bolt ].
The door rattled again, and this time, cracks started to form in the barrier.
"Damian," Evelyn said, her voice lower now, almost pleading. "We don't have time for you to second-guess this. The shadows are coming, and if we don't stop them, they'll take you to Malthus. And trust me, you do not want that to happen."
She was right. He didn't want to end up like the other warlocks she'd mentioned—drained, empty, a husk of his former self. But even as the fear twisted in his gut, his hands trembled with uncertainty. He wasn't ready for this. He had no idea what he was supposed to do.
Another bang sounded, followed by a sharp crack. The barrier flickered and dimmed, its glow fading rapidly.
"They're coming through!" Damian's voice was tight, panic creeping into his words.
"Then we fight," Evelyn said, stepping toward the door, her hands raised, ready to cast. She glanced back at him one last time. "Don't die, and whatever you do, don't let them catch you."
Before Damian could respond, the barrier shattered with a deafening crash, the door exploding inward.
A gust of dark, icy wind swept through the room as the shadows poured in—twisted, slithering figures that barely resembled human shapes. Their bodies flickered like smoke, constantly shifting, and yet their presence was undeniably real, menacing, and deadly.