We all moved at the same time, like this was some sick finger puppet show and one hand ruled us all.

  Sarah didn't even bother using the foundation dab-thingie. She covered her hands in the gel and smeared it liberally over the walls, chasing after Exanguin. Once more, the walls faded in and out of view, blurring the line between reality and illusion. Instead of tall canopies and bushes, I saw long stretches of deserts broken up by long patches of grasslands. A savannah then.

  Exanguin let out a sharp chirp –almost birdlike– that cut through the air. His powerful hind legs propelled him forward, going from zero to sixty in three-point-five. His spotted pelt melded into the Sarah’s illusion, his glamour feeding off of it. Somehow his claws and paws found purchase on the smooth tiles, which turned to cracked dirt every time he pounded the ground.

  He’d get there before Wol. There was no doubt about it.

  This race would be decided in seconds, not minutes.

  My timing had to be perfect.

  The wardstone I threw glowed with necrotic purple light as it slid on the ground a mere fraction of a second before Exanguin exploded into movement, setting up a bright wall of the same color for the next ten feet.

  The first rune was pain.

  Exanguin and Sarah screamed

  It was horrible. I’d never heard anything like it before. The fae’s shriek was the combination of a thousand different cats and dogs, a throaty howl that reminded me of abused shelter animals. Sarah’s though? Gods, hers was just the scream of a regular woman.

  The savannah flickered out of existence and the hallways were just that for a moment, just a regular hallway. No trees or insects fading in and out.

  Wol sped ahead, howling with as much feralness as the housecat-shaped familiar could muster.

  But my wardstones weren’t real wardstones. Real wardstones took time, expensive materials, and far more skill than I had. They were lesser trinkets, if even that. It only took a second for my wardstone to splinter into two neat halves, the rune dissipating into smoke.

  I threw the second wardstone. The second rune: passage.

  Instead of throwing it overhand, I ducked low and slung it as if I were skipping stones. The pebble slid across the floor, passing Exanguin and stopping long before reaching Wol who was already halfway down the hall.

  Once more, a curtain of light purple intersected the hallway between the two familiars.

  “Run!” Sarah yelled.

  Exanguin pounced forward then the big cat slowed, groaning and spun around in a circle. He howled something fierce and lunged at the curtain. It could have been my imagination but he actually hit the beam of light as if it were solid and bounced back on all fours. He stood up on all fours and began clawing the wall with renewed fury.

  The wardstone shook and the rune in whiteout began to smoke. It winked out of existence and the pebble broke in two.

  “Wol, go!”

  The fae exploded into liquid motion. Animal anatomy honed by millions of years of evolution, specialized to give chase and hunt. Lean whipcord muscles rippled in perfect harmony as he closed the gap with frightening speed.

  Sarah snapped open her mirror, showing Exanguin’s reflection in the hallway. The mirror’s reflection bent the hallway, warping it like glass. Then before my eyes, Exanguin sped ahead, as if he were skipping frames. Twenty, thirty, forty feet in the mirror had the glamoured fae bounding ahead and bringing Wol closer back to the starting point.

  Exanguin was only inches behind Wol.

  The fae said nothing. His jaw stretched out impossibly wide, rows and rows and rows of fangs that didn’t belong to any land mammal.

  Sarah sneered, “Never said anything about not being allowed to hurt each other.”

  “Yeah,” I agreed quietly. “We didn’t.”

  Sarah’s sneer slowly melted into one of realization then to one of horror. She turned to yell down the hallway, “Exanguin! Don’t–”

  Exanguin’s jaw clamped down on Wol and the third wardstone activated.

  The rune for protection.

  The beast howled in rage as Wol’s body glowed with inky purple light, bouncing Exanguin’s momentum back at him. Exanguin was thrown back, spinning in a splay of limbs. When he finished rolling, he wasn’t a beast anymore. He was just the strange boy again with a bird’s nest on top of his head and hateful eyes that despised everything.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  I heard Wol’s cry of victory as he rounded the corner and disappeared from view.

  “No! Cheat! Cheater! Cheated!” Exanguin pounded his small fists on the floor.

  “No, I didn’t. You lost,” I gasped, catching up to the scene.

  ‘A trial won fairly, a boon granted willingly.’ Hwari floated by.

  Our words had more than just certainty. The promise, as lightly spoken as it was, had been agreed on by everyone involved. Me, Hwari, Wol, Sarah, and even Exanguin. There had been power there and I knew without an ounce of a doubt that if I had indeed cheated the bargain, I would be feeling the consequences.

  Sarah approached without saying anything. She knew it too.

  I said. “Do you disagree?”

  She clenched her jaw. But soon after relaxed and returned her various trinkets to a small pouch around her waist. “Ask your questions, kid.”

  The hallway was empty now. It made sense. The last thing everyone probably saw was the wild animal chasing the kid with the bright pink backpack away from the exit. If the teachers and kids had a lick of sense, that was the best time to get out.

  “Not fair! Not fair!” Exanguin yelled.

  I ignored him. I also already knew which questions I could ask. “How many people are after me? Actually, scratch that. How many organizations like the Wickermen are after me?”

  “It’d be faster for me to tell you who’s not after you. Everyone, kid. Everyone is after you.”

  “Only answer this if this doesn’t count as a question. Can you name a few of the organizations?” I asked.

  “Vampires. Mercenaries like me. Some of the nonhumans. Anyone who wants to. I don’t really know, kid.” She shrugged, “Hurry up and ask your next one.”

  “Where can I go to meet someone who might know the answer to these questions?” I asked. “In the City. New York City.” I added quickly.

  “There’s a place called Sana's cafe.”

  “Like the card game?” I quipped.

  The bounty hunter didn’t answer me. “For what it’s worth, good luck, kid. ” She walked towards the exit with Exanguin in tow, her illusion and his glamour working in tandem to create the policewomen plus German shepherd disguise.

  I didn’t follow her out. Instead, I started walking towards the club wing where I had originally been heading to.

  The fire alarm was still obnoxiously blaring out its bells and whistles but the intercom wasn’t going off anymore, which made the noise slightly more bearable. But the hallway was a mess. There were half-open bookbags strewn about, with torn textbooks, looseleaf binders, and some poor guy’s essay sprinkled in between. I saw a sneaker that had been left behind.

  Wol met me halfway.

  “What questions did you ask her?” He asked.

  I told him. Then I added, “But I was stupid. I asked her for info that someone like her wouldn’t know. Like insider info.”

  Wol nodded. “It was worth a try, Practitioner. Dabblers like her who work as a mercenary, they have a good pulse on things.”

  “What exactly makes her a dabbler?” I asked. “I didn’t see that much difference between her and me.”

  “Talent, for one. She is good at illusion, I’ll give her that. But that’s the only thing she’s good at. I guess even among dabblers, she’d be one of the more powerful ones,” Wol explained. “A lot of practitioners without families, or a place to belong, without backing, end up being dabblers.”

  “It bothered her,” I grimaced as I said it.

  “I’m sure it does. They’re always the ones who do the dirty work. Oftentimes because they have no other choice. Or more powerful beings will dangle scraps of knowledge for their services.”

  “Well, that dabbler almost killed me,” I had to fight not to stop walking right there and have to think about what those words meant.

  “Yes. We were very lucky,” Wol nodded sharply, “But you are still alive, Practitioner. That is what matters.”

  “Yeah, I’m just afraid that my luck’s going to run out.” I grumbled and sniffed. “It smells like smoke.”

  We stopped as one.

  It wasn’t just the smell. The air in front of us was slowly filling with it. As I watched, the fumes traveled down the hallways, soon giving me another coughing fit. It wasn’t bad enough for me to crawl just yet, but I had to hunch over considerably.

  “The fire’s spreading,” I said. “This is my fault.”

  “Yes, it’s spreading.” Wol agreed, “But not necessarily yours.”

  I looked at him.

  “The boy practitioner, his familiar is a Salamander. His practice revolves around fire. The mercenary from yesterday? A pyromancer who uses evocation. It might not be you.”

  “Yeah,” I said grimly but I disagreed.

  There was no reason for either of the two to start burning things down. For all I knew, the two had already escaped. It worried me that the fire in the bathroom had been so big. It had been as big as one of those bonfires that you see on TV, the ones to send smoke signals up into the sky. Then there was the fact that when it broke through the circle, it had nearly exploded.

  What if it had hit a gas line? Or one of the chemistry lab storage lockers?

  I started getting nervous.

  “We should leave now, Jain.” Wol asked.

  “What if someone’s here?” I said. But my feet were already starting to turn around, loath to walk through the flames.

  It wasn’t just my experience with fire from yesterday. There was a primal fear of fire, of burning, of something searing hot touching one’s skin. I’m guessing that many of my ancestors who weren’t scared of fire didn’t have a chance to contribute to the family gene pool. The smoke’s presence was only growing, pooling on the ceilings and my instinct yelled for me to run the opposite way.

  “Ok, let’s just leave. I think everyone’s out.” I said.

  Then Hwari swept up from my shadow. ‘I sense people ahead, Caller.'

  Imma be a speedster

  by UnproperMadman

  Every self-respecting basement dweller knows what to do when fictional monsters become real and people get the ability to level up. You figure out an overpowered build, you grind, you snowball, you become ridiculously powerful by abusing niche and seemingly useless skills. You focus on yourself and your own interests, giving token help to others when it strikes your fancy. You survive, you thrive, and you become a god.

  Dennis has other priorities.

  What to expect:

  - Beating hopelessness with overwhelming fervour, Gurren Lagann style.

  - Unhinged yet charismatic MC.

  - Absolutely unbalanced power system. FTL is on the plate.

  - Comedy grounded by reality. Sometimes things’ll get pretty dark.

  - Nah, I’d win.