Welcome to Gaia! ::

Plot: A war has started between Demons, Werewolves, vampires, Warlocks, and Witches. Even some gifted humans are on each side. Each creature has an emblem that shows who they are. They wear it proudly or wear it by force, unless your a human who isn't in the war. Two people-- who are destined to kill one another fall in love and they want to stop the war. Are they going to get killed or will they fail but live, or will they have to keep fighting and killing?

Need to knows: Wood is deadly to Vampire, Glass is deadly to Demons, Silver is deadly to Werewolves, and Steel is deadly to Warlocks/Witches.

Character Profile:
Name: (You can leave this blank if you want it to be revealed in the rp)
Age: (You can put unknown if you'd like)
Sex: (Male or Female)
Race: (Demon, Vampire, Werewolf, Warlock/Witch)
Position: (If you wish to play the role of the forbidden romance Demon is out of question for you. For position please state if you are a forced into War, poudly in War, or a human who knows about Demons, Vampires, Werewolves, Warlocks/Withes)
Weapon: (May be anything but Dual Swords)

Required: Vampires must have fangs, vampires do not sparkle, they burst into flames when in sun, they must drink human blood to survive, but animal blood quenches thirst but does nothing to help them survive, Warlocks/Witches must know spells (you can make them up or use some from books, doesn't matter. Please no Harry Potter). Etc.

Rules:
1) No godmodding.
2)Cussing is allowed.
3)Send me all CP (Character Profiles) to me personally (PM).
4) Post exclamation mark in between the drama llama and the siren to let me know you have read the rules.
5)No killing other user's characters unless you, me, and the third person has talked, and I have approved.
6)Please make as much characters as you can handle.
7)You can kill other creatures as long as they are not a user's.
cool Must be over five sentences in response.
9)No using **, --, or anything else for action. Must be SENTENCES. Example of wrong: *goes over to you and kills you* Example of right: She walked over to the warlock and sneers at it. She crouches and holds up her sword to block his blow and thrusts the sword into his chest.
10)Forget rule number four and just post the heart.

“Is he ever going to wake up?” A female voice came to him, sounding venomous. He would have flinched away if he had any feeling in him at all.
“Patience my daughter, he’ll come around soon.” The man sounded farther away, and oddly calm.
“Patience?” She spat. “Patience could cost us our lives father. Patience is wea-“
“Patience is strength, my daughter Mary. It doesn’t take much to act but takes great effort to ****wait**** for the right moment.” He said, cutting off his daughter.
“But Fa-“
“Sh, he moved.” The man said.
****I moved? We’re they talking about me?**** He thought. Suddenly all feeling and emotions came through to him. He groaned in agony as the pain in his wrists overpowered any other feeling.
His hands were bound behind his back, whatever it was that bound them was cutting into his wrists, causing hot white pain to shoot up his arms every time he took a breath.
His eyes fluttered open but his vision was still black.
“Have him drink this,” the man said and the room became silent except for the soft foot falls of boots hitting what sounded like wood floors.
The word drink brought the realization of his mouth being dry and in need of water. But when the cup was forced upon his parted lips and the cup being tipped up so that the liquid was poured into mouth, he gagged it out. The liquid tasted of water and something else that was unknown.
“****Drink it****,” The girl said tipping the cup back up as well as his chin forcing the liquid to go down his throat. The cup disappeared and he coughed and was forced to another drink a few more times before she finally walked away and he heard the slight ****clank**** of the cup being set down.
“Will you cooperate with us, boy?” The man said but he didn’t answer. When the silence went something struck his face, leaving a burning mark on his cheek.
“He asked you a question boy, now answer.” The girl said.
“Sure,” The boy said. His voice sounded rough, like he was still in need of something to drink.
“What do we do with him now?” The girl asked.
“Take his blindfold off,” The man ordered and a pair of hands pushed his head down to untie the knot behind his head.
As soon as she walked away he looked around. The room was dimly lit, the only light source were candles lit hanging off the walls, and on the table. The three of them were in a long room, it’s walls painted a dark burgundy. The floor was wood as he suspected, the color of a washed out pine color. A long rectangle table was centered in the room. The candles were sitting on a crimson red table cloth that was skinner and longer than the oak table. There were many chairs placed around the table.
At the far side of the room sitting in a chair was a man who looked to be in his mid thirties. He had white hair that was slicked back, his eyes were a pupil-less black. He had the picture of ease as he sat in the grand oak chair, his right ankle was resting on his left knee as his right elbow rested on the arm of the chair, his cheek lying on his closed fist. He wore a silver band ring on his middle finger of his right hand.
His eyes shifted from the man to the girl, standing beside him looking at her father.
She was strikingly beautiful, with her jet black hair hanging loosely around her face, stopping at the middle of her back. She wore a one strap dress, black as coal, and it hugged her body as if it were her skin. She fore boots that stopped just below the knee. When he looked up at her face he was even more shocked. Her face was flawless and smooth, her pale pink lips thin.
He felt eyes on him then and noticed that it was the girl’s icy stare. Her eyes were as bright and blue as if they reflected all the oceans, rivers, ponds, lakes, streams, and body of water in them. But it was too bright to be flowing water, it was as if the water had a thin layer of ice on the surface.
“Okay, so I know I’m gorgeous and all, but please don’t stare at me as if I were a delicious meal that you’re seeing for the first time after a few days without food.” She said and walked away from him, sitting in an oak chair herself.
He looked back and forth between the father and the daughter; they looked nothing alike, whatsoever. The man had white hair, the girl had black. The man had black eyes and the girl had frozen water blue eyes.
“Alright enough of this. It’s time for some introduction,” The man said. “This is Mary, my daughter. You shall treat her with as much respect as you should show me. I am Ruler of the Demons, you see. And a War will be breaking loose soon, I suspect it should start within three days. Whether you like it or not you will be fighting with Demons against all the other Races.” He said.
“Races?” The boy asked.
“Werewolves, Vampires, and Warlocks and Witches.” He explained. “If you choose not to fight then you will be getting the worst punishment beyond imagining me dear boy.” He smiled a quick smile, a smile of venom. “You see, Mary is your sister. And I am, well I am your father.”
“Stop lying to me, my father died before I was born. I have lived with my mother my whole life. You can’t possibly be my father.” A small look of amusement passed through the man’s face.
“Did your mother tell you anything of me, perhaps she had a picture.” He paused to laugh once and continued. “No, she didn’t. Your mother was human, just as the rest of us. But when you were born, the oldest, the first, you were born with Demon blood in you. She left me as soon as I told her what I had done. She asked me why I did it, and I simply said it was to make you stronger.”
“What about her?” He jerked his head to Mary. “If I was the first born how is Mary here?”
“Two years had passed and your mother hadn’t left me yet. She gave birth to Mary and after you were three and Mary one, she took you with her and left Mary. She didn’t want to believe you had Demon blood in you, so she raised you and let you believe the only thing that existed in this world was Humans, so you wouldn’t grow up to be like me.” He said. The boy stared at the man with many emotions playing across his face. He shook his head slightly.
“I don’t believe you,” He said.
“Don’t but it’s true. And in time, my son-“
“Never call me that.” The boy said glaring at the man, who still looked calm and amused. “I’m not your son. I will never be. I’m one hundred per cent human, with only human blood.” He snarled. He tried to get up but something restrained him. Hot pain shot up his arm, he had forgotten about his hands being bound.
The man laughed. “Mary, take him to get him Marked. I shall call in someone to help you take him to the Room.”
The boy was breathing heavily as Mary stood up. His silvery, pale blue eyes, grew dark with angry and hatred towards the man.
Mary looked as if she were about to protest but the look she gave the boy made her think twice.
Two men came in the room then, walking past the man and Mary and to the boy. They cut his wrists free from what looked like blood stained wire. The men seized him, each one taking an arm and shoved him towards the doors.
As they passed the man the boy tried to struggle his way free and to leap at the man. Before he could do anything else one of the men had both his arms behind his back with one his hands, the other hand holding a knife to the boys throat.
“Don’t try anything stupid,” One of them said and shoved him out the doors. As soon as the large oak French doors closed behind him he was tied back up again and was blinded with another rag, as well as gagged.
“Show him no mercy,” the girl said.
Every time he slowed his pace even a little they’d hit him or cut him, at times he even felt a whip snap at him, not knowing who whipped him. And every time he wanted to scream the gag made him, well gag.
Finally they came to a stop and a door swung lightly on its hinges. The four of them stepped in and the door closed. It was freezing cold in the room and he was shoved down to the floor. His gag was taken out and his blindfold taken off. The room had only one door which was bolted shut and guarded by one of the men. The walls were grey and plain, not a window or crack or hole in the smooth walls.
Mary stepped in his way, a whip in her hands, a devious smile playing across her face. She knelt down by him and leaned in to whisper in his ear.
“Pain is something that should never be forgotten, it’s the one thing that’ll make us stronger in the end. Which is why pain should never be numbed.” And she got up and walked away to the other side of the room.
The boy was seized and his bounds were cut off. They lied him on the single metal table, as three more men entered the room, each one taking a hold of his ankles and wrists. The hands were replaced by chains. They ripped off his shirt.
Pain soared through his body, starting at the stomach. He felt as if his stomach and been lit on fire from the inside. The pain traveled through his arms down to his finger tips and back to his shoulders to his neck, to his chest, and back down to the source of the pain. Every time it went to his stomach it would travel through his arms once more, carrying more pain than the last time.
Finally the pain started to ease, but the pain was like a rollercoaster. Every time the pain lessened it would increase again, lessening more and more, getting stronger afterwards. Everything around him started getting blurry and he heard a buzzing sound in his ears. And everything went black.


His eyes fluttered open and Mary’s last words about pain ran through his head. He pushed them aside and tried to think of what had happened. Nothing came back to him right away.
He felt sweat on his forehead and tried to wipe it away. But his hands were restrained, and then he remembered.
“Morning Sleeping Beauty,” He turned his head to the side and saw Mary sitting there in the corner in a chair. “How do you feel?” She paused. “Wait, I don’t care.” She laughed and he rolled his eyes. She sighed and looked at him. “You know, of you weren’t my brother I’d actually like you.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “I could’ve gone my whole life plus an eternity not to know that.” She laughed at his words.
She took the chains off and took out her whip expecting him to lunge at her with rage. This time he laughed at the look of disappointment that crossed her face. “Wanted to whip me, eh?” He asked and laughed more.
He sat up, wincing in pain, and hung his legs over the side of the metal table. His hands rested on his knees, his head hung low.
“What did they do to me?” He asked, his eyes opening as he lifted his to look at Mary. She stood up from the chair and walked up to a mirror he hadn’t noticed before. It was a body mirror and she held it in front of him as he stood up from the table.
Black Marks covered his bare torso and arms like tattoos. The color wasn’t a dark faded black, it was black as coal. The color of his hair.
He looked at Mary beside the mirror and back at his reflection.
“We look a lot alike,” Mary said. They both had the same thick-thin black as coal hair. Her eyes were the color of frozen water; his were the color of silver with a pale blue mixed in. Both were tall and skinny. Though his chest was muscular as well as his arms, but he wasn’t exactly buff either. His skin looked fair and had a golden tan; Mary’s was fair and pale with a golden tint.
“Do you look like your mother?” She asked suddenly.
“No, not at all. She has brown curly hair; her eyes were the color of dark emerald gems. So I don’t know how we look alike you don’t look like your father nor do I look like my mother.”
“I still don’t believe we’re related, or that the man is my father. Looks or not I don’t believe it.” He paused with hesitation but continued. “How exactly was I brought here?”
“I’m not quite sure, you’ll have to ask our father,” She said. He shrugged it off.
“Come on, father told me to tell him when you woke up.” She smiled. “Turn around, you know what’s next.” He turned around with a sigh, knowing if he didn’t cooperate with worse things were sure to come.
Despite their moment she showed him no mercy. The wire cut into him immediately as she tied it tight. Whip in hand she pushed him along to the other side of the room to the door. They came to the same doors as yesterday, and went through them.
The white haired man who claimed he was his father saw in the same position, in the same chair, as yesterday.
He stood up as they entered and nodded and sat back down, resuming his position. Mary brought him the the chair to the man’s right, and Mary went around to sit in the chair to man’s left.
“Do you remember anything before you woke up in this room yesterday my dear boy?” The man asked getting right down to business.
He looked across at Mary, who sat there with a bored expression, examining her nails. He looked down at the table now, thinking.
“Not much, no.” He said looking at the man now.
“Name?” He asked.
“Yes, my name is-“ The boy closed his mouth and shook his head as confusion took over every other emotion inside him.
The man chuckled, “Of course you don’t. You shouldn’t. The drink we gave you yesterday when you woke up was supposed to make you forget almost everything.
“I asked him about his mother, he remembers her.” Mary said without interest.
“What?!” The man showed more emotion now than any other time the boy remembered. “How does he know? What do you know? Something’s got to be changed about that.” The man seemed outraged.
“Oh calm down father. That’s not what I meant. I meant he remembers her. That’s it.” Mary said and the man seemed to have lost any anger from before.
“Okay, okay. That’s better.”
“What happened to my mother?” He asked wanting know what they were talking about. “Is she hurt?” He asked alarmed.
“Not anymore,” Mary said.
“Mary! That’s enough on the subject! No more words are to be said about Shania.” He yelled at her but Mary remained bored.
“I will name you what I thought was perfect for you, what your mother refused to call you.” He paused. “I believe your mother renamed you Alec, but that is a soft name. Now Lucifer, that’s a name from a Human that has Demon blood run through his veins.”
“Don’t like that name.” He spat at him.
“Much like you entering this war, you don’t have much of a choice, do you my boy?” He asked.
The boy’s gaze turned from confused and longing to angry and hatred in seconds towards his father. “And if I choose not to fight?” He asked.
“You will be tortured,” Mary said taking out her whip. “But I won’t let you have what you want while being tortured—death. No, I’ll keep you alive.” She paused to give the most venomous laugh he had ever heard before. “Barely.”
“Mary, please.” Suddenly the man sounded very tired. “Just, stop, please.”
Mary looked truly hurt. “It’s true, you know it is!” She stood up and walked out the room. He watched her leave.
“Come with me Lucifer,” He said helping him up out of his chair. He cut the wire and had to pull it out of his skin. He tossed it onto the table and examined the boy’s wrist. “Did you do anything to make Mary mad?” He asked.
“No, not that I know of.” He said. The man walked away, not looking back to see if he was following or not. “I have more power than you can ever imagine, Lucifer. Now come and follow me,” He said as if he knew his son wasn’t following.
He ran after his father and followed him down the hall. They entered a room that was four rooms put together, the walls were filled with weapons.
“Choose one.” He said. “One should pop out to you. I don’t know which, but you’ll find it.” He passed the man, who stood with his hands intertwined behind his back. He sighed and passed many weapons, he picked one up and when it didn’t feel right he put it down. Finally he found a pair of dual swords, two halves of one sword.
He picked them up and grimaced as he knew he had found his chosen weapon. An image of blood and war filled his mind and he threw the swords down.
“No, I’m not a killer like you, and I won’t be made into one. I’m not fighting.” He said looking down at the ground.
“I’ll give you one beating for saying that, son, and hopefully you’d like to change your mind.” He looked disappointed in him. And as if on cue two men came in and dragged him out of the room.
The men turned him to face the wall. His head hung low, his shaggy black hair covering his closed eyes. Expecting the whip was a bad idea in the end.
Something else was used on him, more pain than the whipped deliver. He leaned his head back; his eyes squeezed shut, and screamed out in agony. Whatever it was they used on him took another slap at his bare back. He could feel his own blood run down his back; he could hear laughter and his own screams in his ears as if they were someone else’s.
His father was in front of him, looking at ease. “Has your mind changed yet Lucifer?” He asked.
“No,” He said tersely. His father gave whoever it was one quick, sharp look and a second later pain was taking over every thought, feeling, emotion, inside of him. He screamed out once more, each blow causing more and more pain. Tears rolled down his cheeks from his eyes, sweat rolling down his face and neck.
“Ah, Mary,” Their father said. “Hand him the whip?” He asked.
“No. The whip is mine, if you want to whip him, I’ll do it.” Lucifer could hear the smile in her voice. He looked at his father who didn’t seem to be enjoying this; he could tell he thought it was just punishment, persuading him to change his mind.
Without word he heard the crack and snap of the whip, the pain came later, his screams following. The whip seemed more painful than when he was walking down the hall, he figured it was probably because he was already in pain.
“Leave him in here to change his mind.” His father said. The men let go of him and he fell to the floor. Everyone left, and he heard the click of a door shut, and then another click as a lock was locked.
The boy lied here on his hands and knees, tears mixing with the blood on his hands. He clenched his jaw and stood up. He walked over to the door and and tried to open it. The lock was stronger than any lock he had experience.
He breathed heavily, sitting down on the floor, leaning against the wall next to the door. His knees were up off the ground, his arms resting on them. His head was leaned back against the wall, his face tilted up to the ceiling. He sweared and cursed like there was no tomorrow. He pounded his fists into the wall as he got up and paced the room. He didn’t know how long he was already in the room, or how long his father meant to keep him in here.
It became pitch black in the room, the light from the hall going out. Still he felt his back wet with blood.
He lied down and his eyes closed as he drifted off to sleep. He wasn’t fully unconscious through his sleep. He was aware of the blood still flowing down his back, the pain, the burning sensation, and the feeling that he wasn’t alone anymore.
Realizing this he sat up abruptly, repressing a groan of agony, as his eyes snapped open. It was useless though, it was still pitch black in the room. He couldn’t even see his own hand in front of him.
He sat as still as possible, breathing as quietly as he could. He looked around hoping to see any form or blackness within the shadows.
Suddenly there was a cold knife as his throat and a hand covered his mouth. A voice was whispered in his ear now.
“Make a noise or a move and I’ll slit your throat.” He couldn’t really tell if it was a female or male who was there with him. He closed his eyes as of that would make everything disappear. “Do as I say and you won’t get hurt,” he realized it was female now but decided with the pain he was in he shouldn’t do anything. “Who are you?” she asked making him stand, she backed him up and suddenly his back was pressed against the wall.
“I- I don’t remember anything from my past… My father I never knew is Ruler of the Demons, he has renamed me Lucifer.” He said Lucifer with a sound of sickness. “Wh- who are you?” He asked hesitantly.
The knife at his throat was being pressed harder. “I’m asking the questions. You’re doing all the answering. “And I’m very surprised you don’t remember me.” She said, her voice amused, he could feel her breath against his mouth and he could tell she was looking at him as if she could see him in the darkness. “Let’s see here…” She said as if she were thinking. “I knew you when you lived here. When you lived with your mother in California. And you knew me.” She said.
“I was three when I lived here,” He said, his voice quiet.
“Your father lied to yet once again Alec.” She said, using his real name. “You were nine when you left and moved away. You’re mother erased any memories you might have of your father and sister.” She said. “Erasing the memory of your father and sister erased your memory of me too. We met up in a Park in California and we became friends. You asked me why I didn’t go to your school and I told you I was homeschooled. Are you sure you don’t remember me?” she asked.
“Y-yes I’m sure.” He said but it sounded sort of like a question towards the end. The knife at his throat made him skittish and uncomfortable.
“We lost contact when I moved back here with my mother and father, we were eleven.” She sounded desperate for me to remember. “Maybe this’ll help you remember,” she said; a smile in her voice.
Suddenly her lips were on his, the knife disappeared from his throat but he could feel the handle of it in her hand as her hands tangled in his hair. Gently he put his hands on her shoulders and pushed her backwards, her lips left his and her hands left his hair.
“You don’t remember me still do you?” She asked. “I thought that would help,” Her voice trailed off. “Even if you don’t remember me, I never like anyone rejecting me,” her voice changed from sad to angry in a second, the knife back at the base of his throat. Just as she applied pressure hard enough so that blood was starting to surround the tip the door burst open.
“Lucifer?!” Him and the girl both looked towards the door to find his father standing there. “Who are you and how-“ He looked at her astonished. “Cyra?” He asked unbelieving. “I thought I banished you from this castle long ago,” He sounded angry. He looked at his son, his face white as a ghost, and then down at the knife.
Two men came in behind him and took Cyra, dropping the knife at Lucifer’s feet. He sank down to the floor with exhaustion. He watched as Cyra was drug out of the room kicking and screaming in protest.
“Lock her up in the Prisons,” he said and walked over to his son and helped him up. The man who allowed and watched his son to be whipped and tortured was no furious with a small cut at his throat. He shrugged his father’s touch from him and looked at him.
“I don’t get you,” he said. “And please stop calling me Lucifer.”
“Don’t get what? And your name is Lucifer, never going to be any different. And that’s what I shall call you.” He said leading him out of the room. They were back in the weapons room and saw that the Dual Swords were still lying on the ground.
“Pick up your weapons son, and it’s time for you to get changed for some training.”
Without saying a word he walked defeatedly over to the swords and picked them. He took one long look at them. The handles were bound in black leather, the silver blades had Markings on them, same Markings as the ones visible on his skin, the Mark of the Demon. He looked up at his father now.
“Ah the Dual Swords,” he said. “They haven’t chosen one to handle them for a century, and no one has mastered them for centuries. Looks like my son will go down in Demon History.” He said and led him out of the room. He stared down at his converse shoes as they walked down the halls.
“In you go,” His father said as he pushed Luke in. He looked around. He stood alone in two conjoined rooms that were actually bigger than the four rooms. One of the walls was a window, and through the window he saw his father standing with his hands behind his back.
“Bring in the prisoner!” He heard his father yell. A few seconds later a boy was pushed into the room. He wore dirty clothes and looked like a child, well a boy in his early teens. They tossed him a sword and a knife and he took both.
“Let the fighting begin,” His father yelled through the window as the door shut and locked behind him. Luke stood there like an idiot and he had barely enough time to react before he realized what was happening.
The boy wore no shirt now, exposing his Mark. Luke didn’t know what the mark meant or what race the boy was. All he knew was that he was going to kill him if he didn’t do anything.
Luke kicked at boy, his foot landing on the boy’s chest, sending him backwards into the wall. He landed on the floor with a grunt. He got up and lunged at Luke again, this time he landed behind him and kicked him to the ground. Luke rolled over onto his back and watched as the boy leaped to land on him. Luke put both his feet in the air and sent the boy flying over him. He leaped up off his back and pinned the boy to the ground. One knee was on the floor sitting tightly against the boy’s body, his other knee on his chest. He had his Dual Swords criss-crossed against the boy’s neck.
The brown haired boy’s hand was digging in his pocket, and just as Luke was going to finish him something sharp pierced his arm. He rolled off the boy and was screaming. This pain was worse than anything else he’d ever experienced. It shot pain throughout his whole body, ending in his heart.
The boy was seized as his father came in. He knelt down by his son and took whatever it was out of his arm. Oddly there was no blood, but either way taking it out didn’t do anything to the pain.
“I thought you said he had nothing on him!” His father yelled as they held the boy.
“We searched him thoroughly, he didn’t have anything.” Said one of them.
“Where did you hide it boy?” His father asked looking at the boy as he stayed by his son’s side.
“Talk!” One of the men said and came a sound of groaning from pain.
“Inside my belt,” the boy’s voice was small, but rough.
“Take him down to the Prison and kill him.” His father said. They dragged him off down the hall and his father turned back to him. “Hang in there alright? We’ll make sure it’s all out.”
Everything went black then as his father ordered for some help.

): I can't see the pic... And cool.

Ill try again

Elaine scanned the area for any Demons. She was about to leave her post for another building on the other side of the prison when she froze. She sensed movement, and crouched in the shadow of the building, hand already on her dagger. Two Demons were leaving a room about 100 meters away. she held her breath as they passed, and looked curiously at the room. It had windows. "s**t" she hissed. in one quick movement she had sprinted around the corner and was flying toward the room with the tiny window. she stood on her toes and peered inside. At first she saw nothing, then her eyes caught a boy sleeping in bed. he looked a bit older that her, with hair as black as a Raven's wings. Elaine studied him through the small window. He had the markings and weapons of a warrior, but the wounds of a prisoner. She wondered if he was forced into this war, just as she was. But Elaine was not positive of his position. therefore, she could not let him live. She surveyed the window.
"Plexiglass. Damnit" Even if she broke the window and somehow a piece stabbed him, he would be fine. She leaned her head against the cool wall, searching her head for an idea.

"Hello silver" a voice behind her purred. Elaine was called Silver by her enemies for many reasons. The first being that it was her name. Another being the pure silver dagger she kept in her belt. The third, beause of her hatred of werewolves, and the fourth, as the stories were told, she had a heart of pure gold, given to her by angels, but the blood that flowed through it was black as ink, the blood of Satan's spawn. She jumped and turned toward the familiar voice.
"Dakota" she greeted the newcomer with a nod, though her eyes flashed with anger.
"What are you doing here my dear girl?" Dakota asked, taking a step toward Elaine.
"I could say the same to you" she snapped, pressing against the wall.
"And I'm not 'your girl' anymore, Dakota" He let out a menacing laugh.
"Oh, but you used to be, my dear." He lunged at her. The two tumbled to the ground, Dakota holding Elaine's shoulders. She kicked him off.
"That was the past" She jumped up and pulled out her dagger, awaiting another attack. A smile grew upon Dakota's face.
"Nothing ends until I say it does" Dakota sneered. His velvety voice, soothing. Elaine glared at him.
"Oh really? That's what you think" she lunged at him. Her dagger sliced through the flesh on his arm. She turned swiftly. His smile never wavered as he pulled an arrow out of the holder on his back. As he pulled out the bow, she realised that the tip of the arrow was copper. Elaine ran. Within seconds an arrow pierced her shoulder and she collapsed on the ground.
"I told you, my dear" Dakota said calmly. She could hear the sadistic tone, and knew he was smiling. She closed her eyes in defeat, listening as his footfalls grew quieter and eventually faded into silence.

The pain from her shoulder sliced through her veins like ice. Her thoughts became hazy, as she was overcome by agony. She fought to stay conscious. An image flashed into her mind. The boy being dragged from the smaller room to the prison. She would not be able to save him after all. the boy looked at her, his eyes full of fear and deceit. She longed to get up and save him, though she could not move. Then the boy's face changed, his hair became brown and shaggy, almost covering his dead, blue eyes. He began to laugh as his features changed. It was Dakota. His eyes gleamed with the thought of Elaine lying on the ground in the middle of the Demons' fortress, where she would surely be found and killed.
"Goodbye, Silver" his voice purred.

Elaine’s head was spinning, the haze in front of her eyes turned red with anger. She craved revenge on Dakota the way a starving tiger craved meat. The pain washed over like waves. She clenched her teeth. Dakota would not win.

Suddenly her pain began to subside as well as the haze blocking her view. As her vision cleared, she saw the silhouette of a boy. Dakota’s face flashed through her mind and she reached for her dagger. His voice sounded wrong though. She realized that it wasn’t Dakota and her stiff fingers found their way to her shoulder where the arrow had been. She looked up at the boy, the haze had disappeared, and her eyes widened in shock. It was the boy with the black hair, the one from the window.

Elaine pressed her lips into a thin line. She wasn’t sure if she could trust this Demon boy. He was, in fact, currently living in the fortress of her greatest enemy, and Dakota’s greatest ally. At least, that’s what he had told her. Elaine had never actually seen him even converse with a Demon. And now this Demon boy was crouched beside her. It made her edgy being so close to someone who may try to kill her. Then it hit her. ‘He saved my life’ she thought. Her expression smoothed into one of gratitude.

“My name is Elaine. And yes, I am a witch.” She said, pushing herself up. The ground seemed to tilt underneath her. She was still a bit dizzy. Elaine bit her lip and ignored the nausea that came along with it. She blinked a few times, and took a deep breath. ‘Goodbye Silver’ Dakota’s voice whispered in her head.
‘This is what I get for dating such an a*****e’ she chastised herself, glaring in the direction of the woods, where she assumed Dakota was hiding. Her parents had forced her to be with him. They told her that with him, they would be so dangerous, that no one in the family would be lost in the war. That was before Dakota killed her younger brother. She clenched her fists, and looked up at the boy.
“Who are you?”

Elaine said nothing as he lifted her. She felt utterly defenseless, and was angry at herself for being in this position. When he set her down, she scooted a bit farther away from him, just to be safe.

“You want to help me?” She asked in disbelief. ‘Why would a Demon possibly want to help a witch?‘ she thought. A humorless laugh escaped her lips. “None of us chose to be what we are. Though, in my opinion, a Demon is probably the worst thing you can become. But let me guess, you were forced to be a part of this?” Elaine wondered why he hadn’t just killed her already. She was weak because of the copper and considered herself an easy target.

Her fingers roamed up to her shoulder, which was throbbing, though the pain almost gone. She scowled at the small hole in her cloak. “b*****d” she muttered. “My favorite cloak too…“ She looked up at Luke, but had to push her hood off of her head because it was covering her eyes.

“My shoulder is fine.” she said. “And I’m feeling fine. You, on the other hand, look terrible.” She watched him pace back and forth in silence. Elaine noticed the sound of a creek when he paused. She removed her fingers from her shoulder and folded her hands in her lap.

“Yeah, here” She pulled a patterned cloth out of her back pocket and held it up to him. She bit her lip. All of his pacing was making her nervous. He seemed upset about something.

“Are you okay?” she asked, studying him. Then, as quickly as she could, she glanced back into the forest, looking for Dakota, and hoping Luke wouldn’t notice. She looked up for a secure-looking tree branch she could grab a hold of so she could stand. She could not afford to be weak. Dakota could be back at and moment. She frowned, all suitable branches were beyond her reach. Her fingers twitched toward her wand, though she was forbidden by her mother to use it. Her mother worried it would call to much attention to her. Though she saw no problem with it now that Luke knew she was a witch.

Elaine decided against using her wand and remained seated on the ground, looking up at Luke.