08-03-2016, 05:12 PM
As the last light faded from beyond the buildings of Moscow to the west, Katya Alokhin hurried to her apartments, trying to ignore the pulsing at the back of her mind. She was flushed, her hair, typically held in a bun or loose, was disheveled, and worst of all, she was trembling. “I hate you, Elise,” she mumbled to herself out of habit, recklessly climbing her way up the set of stairs that ran to her apartments. Thankfully, at this time of night, few were wandering the halls, so none could see how flushed she was. “I hate you so, so very much,” she continued, breathless. She had been running for some time, trying to get home before she surrendered herself to the hidden power in the back of her head. Elise had forced her to it! She had no other choice! It had been Elise, damn that woman!
She was thankful she was almost home. Running down the last stretch of carpet to Apartment #221, she gritted her teeth, and took upon herself the task of retrieving her keys, hidden underneath various day-to-day items in the satchel that clung to her side. Wrestling inside of there was rough, and painful as well – not in the physical sense, but mentally. The Power begged for her to touch it. It pulsed and throbbed and made her want it more and more. It wouldn’t go away until she fell into it. It wouldn’t go away. Biting down on her tongue, shaking, trying to retrieve her keys, she was at least thankful for the years she had spent resisting the Power, elsewise she might’ve already surrendered to this ethereal globe of light. It was like the sun, almost. Warm, welcoming, dangerous.
Finally she retrieved her keys. Pulling them out with a stiff yank, she sighed in relief and fit it into the keyhole. Once her door was unlocked, she scurried in, slammed the door behind her, and dropped her satchel.
Then she allowed herself to touch it.
She let out a groan of pleasure as radiance unending washed over her. She stumbled back, mouth opening wide as it filled her. There was not a single place on her body that did not feel alive right then. Not a single part of her that didn’t feel better or see better or hear better. She could make out the fine hairs on her arms standing up from the sensation. She could feel the intense ache in her feet. She could hear the sounds of distant sirens, of the dangers that commonly permeated Moscow’s nightlife. This Power, from what she could tell of it, was addictive in many ways, much like the addiction of nicotine or alcohol. Once you had one taste of it, you wanted more, and the more you wanted, the more you drank in it until it consumed you whole.
Katya promised herself she was not addicted. She hadn’t touched the Power in over a week. But still; it was so blissful, so pleasurable, like being touched by a fine cool mist on a hot summer day. Like nothing else she had ever experienced before. The more she brooded on it, the more she wanted it. For one last, lingering taste, Katya drew deeper, though she was unsure how she did it. Soon, it would become painful, she knew. And once it became painful…
She dropped it. Let the Power flood out of her. It left her exhausted, weak, and fragile. She slumped to the ground, and let herself breathe. The cold wood floors beneath her offered little comfort for her, so once she let the dull colors of the world come back to her, she stood, wiped off her skirts, and made her way into her apartment. It wasn’t large by comparison to Elise’s, she noted with dissatisfaction, but it was home. The living room held a small television and a sofa off to the side, and beside it were two nightstands, each holding stacks of papers important to her writings. She had a balcony as well, though it went unfurnished at the moment. She had left it open over the day to make sure that it wasn’t too hot when she got home, and now that the need to touch the Power had vanished, she was thankful for the slight tingle of cold evening air against her skin.
Katya quickly threw the satchel she had at her side on a table nearby, resting near the kitchen, and then slumped on the chair in the corner of the room. It was quiet, eerily so, compared to a moment earlier where it seemed she could hear everything in the world. She let herself relax for a moment, to catch her breath and think on the events of the day. It had started normal, but Elise’s careful prodding had gotten worse throughout the day. As one of her teachers, Katya could hardly avoid her, and most of the time she didn’t, but today she had been simply insufferable. Since she arrived in the morning she had dangerously thrown herself out there by holding to her Power, making Katya watch her glow for however long she wanted. Katya knew enough of this strange Power that whenever you used it for too long, you grew exhausted and fatigued, but Elise had simply held to it, making Katya watch and grow more irritable by the minute.
She could barely hold herself together on the ride home. There was something about watching someone hold the Power that made her want to drink in it herself, and she was certain Elise knew that just as much as she did. *She’s taunting me,* she told herself. *She wants to make me surrender. I won’t, by God! I won’t!* She hated this Power. She hated it!
In a sudden burst of anger, Katya flung herself upright and made her way to her Wallet, a small device sitting on the corner of her table. Pressing the large button on the screen that started it up, Katya started typing rapidly on it. Then she pressed another button, and she was calling someone. Elise.
The line beeped, and she was on. “I knew you would call me,” the middle-aged woman said, sounding amused. “What is wrong, Katya?”
“Don’t do that again,” she warned, her voice tense. “You know what it does. And you know I don’t like it.”
She snorted from the other end. “Do you not like to drink in it too, Katya? You must learn to embrace your fears, elsewise they will always control you.” Her fears had originally come from nearly searing Elise’s arm off, and furthermore, the horror she could cause with the invisible lines she had flung around herself on that one fateful night.
“It is addicting,” Katya said stalwartly. “You are addicted to it, Elise. If you won’t stop, I will be forced to take measures. I think you threaten me and yourself with what you do.”
The other end was silent. “It has no drawbacks, unlike alcohol or what not.”
“You yourself said the dangers of touching such an incredible source of power, Elise. They would… come for us.” There were men and women who would dedicate their entire lives to ending her and Elise, and what if they had some way to hunt them down? What if they were more than a hidden mercenary band? What if they were right within earshot?
She swallowed. Hard.
“I don’t think,” Katya continued, “that I should like to take lessons from you so long as you continue to do this. Please do not do it again. Your carelessness threatens us all.” Her voice was stone cold, and she made sure it was that way before she clicked the button that signified an end to their conversation. If Elise called back, she wouldn’t answer. If Elise tried to do that again, Katya would show her her fury. She would, damn that woman!
The moment she turned away, she heard a ring. She swallowed again, turning to her Wallet. Elise…
It wasn’t Elise. For a moment, relief ran through her, before panic settled in. Who was calling her at such a late hour? Curious as she was, she couldn’t withhold herself from touching the button that started the call. “Hello?” Cam her voice, weary to the bone. “Who is this?”
Often enough, Katya had callers who shared their opinions on her work. Some good, some bad, but never impolite. Sometimes, there were fans as well, though those calls were few and far between. Who would call her now? Who?