Chapter Text
I pushed through the trees, ignoring the branches whipping my torso and the thorns ripping my arms. I had to keep running, had to keep moving. Couldn't stop, or they'd catch me.
Branches broke under my feet and I cursed my inability to fly through the forest like they could. I swore under my breath as a hand ran up my back, tauntingly light. Sniggers floated to my ears, so quiet I could have imagined it. I knew I hadn't. They were chasing me, they were playing with me. We all knew they could kill me within seconds if they wanted to.
A feather-light hand stroked my jaw. I flinched away, but didn't risk glancing over, just sped up. He kept pace with me, laughing lightly.
"Boo," he whispered, his voice deep and husky.
A strong hand between my shoulder blades sent me tumbling forward. I groaned, crashing to the ground. Spitting out leaves and dirt, I rolled onto my back and discovered I'd been surrounded. Five tall, slim figures stood around me, all of them grinning. Not one was out of breath, not even slightly.
The one with the dark quiff and the brown eyes smirked. "Well that was fun," he commented, looking up at the other boys. I recognised his voice, he was the one that had pushed me. "I was almost afraid we wouldn't catch her for a moment there."
"But we did, Zayn, we did catch her," another replied, this time with a smaller, blonde quiff. His eyes were a sparkling sky blue, and I knew I shouldn't look into them. He was the shortest of the five. He turned to grin at me. "Of course, now that we've caught her, what do we do with her?"
One boy with wild, curly hair laughed harshly. "Look at her! She's weak. Scared."
"She should be," muttered the fourth boy, who had a buzzcut and dark brown eyes.
The curly-haired one appeared in front of me, kneeling at my level. I was on my back, propped up on my hands. He grasped my chin firmly and I gasped. Tilting my head forwards and backwards, he examined me like I was a horse on sale. Nodding approvingly, he released my face and looked up at the other boys.
"I say we keep her," he said. My heart jumped into my mouth and I could feel its rapid beating. They weren't going to kill me? "You know, so we can play with her."
"Harry, she's tame," sighed the final boy. Slightly shorter than Harry, his light brown hair was feathery, styled in a small quiff. "She won't be any fun."
"She's not tame," Harry replied. "I can tell. I bet she's vicious."
"And do you really want to have to kill her when you realise you can't handle her?" the blonde asked.
Harry shrugged. "We can all handle her and play with her. She wouldn't dare run away." He looked over at me. "What's your name?"
This was my chance to anger them, to make them kill me. Very rarely did a night-walker take someone as a pet, but the results were never good. I wanted to spit in Harry's face, or something along those lines, but if he really was intending to keep me, he'd just punish me. I knew from tales I'd heard along my travel that night-walker pets were timid and looked to their master for confirmation on anything, even those that had been fierce-spirited and tough beforehand.
"Tess," I whispered.
He heard me loud and clear. One of the night-walker's abilities was enhanced senses, so everything was better when you were a night-walker. That's what these five boys in front of me were. I'd never been unlucky enough to come close enough to one to see if the stories I'd heard were true. All of these boys were heartbreakingly gorgeous, so that was one tale confirmed. Another was that each had an individual power, something no other night-walker had. They were similar to vampires, but were stronger and more powerful.
"Tess." Harry rolled my name over his tongue. "It'll do for now, I guess."
"You can't keep her," pointed out the taller, brown-haired boy.
"I'll do what I like, Liam," Harry growled. "You want her too. I can see it."
Liam sighed, but stayed quiet. Harry looked back at me, his expression still fierce.
"Are you going to come with me willingly?" he asked.
"I'd rather die," I told him, my voice louder than I'd intended.
The nameless brown-haired boy laughed. "I see what you mean by fierce, Haz. We'll have to take her in by force."
I found myself face down on the ground within seconds, my arms held firmly behind my back. I couldn't move, let alone fight. There was an elbow in the small of my back, holding me down.
"Give me some rope or something," Harry said. He was the one holding me down.
Night-walkers are normally very well-equipped, according to tales. Another story proved right, I realised, when something was wrapped carefully around my wrists, then pulled tight and secured. I had a vague sensation of air rushing past me before I was hanging over Harry's shoulder, his hand tightly clutching my legs. I couldn't even kick him.
"Ready?" Harry asked. His throat vibrated when he spoke, sending shivers down my spine.
I was flying. Well, almost. It felt like flying, but really it was the speed at which the night-walkers travelled. The ground rushing past below me made bile rise in my throat and I squeezed my eyes shut. That wasn't the only reason I was about to vomit though. I was being taken to a night-walker's home, one he shared with four other night-walkers, to be a plaything. A toy for when he got bored. A punching bag for when he was frustrated. And a vending machine for when he was thirsty.
Night-walkers were like vampires. They drank blood. Human blood, to be precise. And most of their toys had bite marks on their necks.