I suddenly feel a breeze, it's rather chilly. Then, looking down I realise the source of the problem. My face turns red. I've just walked out into a busy street with only my underwear and bandages to cover myself. Oh god what if people think im a junkie or something. I slam the door shut in embarrassment and hurriedly drag my beaten body back to my room.
I search through all the nearby drawers and cupboards until I open a large wardrobe filled with a garments I assume to be mine. As im putting the clothes on, I think to myself that my choice of attire is rather odd for a person doing work involving weapons. I button up my white shirt adorned with Bishop sleaves and wrap an embroidered belt around a pair of black, flared, leather bottoms. And, for the first time, I look at myself in the mirror.
Although it was merely to check if I was wearing the clothes correctly, I forgot that I had never seen my own face. I have chestnut brown hair that almost grazes my eyes with a 70:30 parting. Speaking of my eyes they're black, almost lifeless, if I wasn't the one bearing those eyes I'd struggle to imagine there being anything behind them. Between them lay a button nose not too big but not small. My lips below are thick and well shaped. All of these things plastered onto a slightly feminine but strong face with a long chin, small ears and wrapped in a well tanned layer of skin.
Huh... not bad.
Now, with a more confident stride, I reveal myself for the streets of this place to see. Though the clothes are a bit eccentric, I feel as though they've given me some character.
Right! To the library!
My boots drag and scrape against the floor, the cobble making for a Worthing adversary against my injured body. And as I drag and scrape, my shoulder hits against someone. I look up.
I'm instantly brought to my knees.
I try to get a good look at them but all I can muster is a quick glimpse at their slim silhouette and a mask covering only the top half of their face. All I get is about a second though as the immense pressure I feel throws my head back down. I can feel the weight of the world on my back crushing me into the floor. All they're doing is looking at me. No hand movements, no leg movements. Just their gaze has me pinned down.
"Who.. the hell... are you?" I meagerly spit out.
They simply look at me for a few more seconds and then walk away.
The pressure is gone now but... that scene just keeps replaying in my head. It's wasn't something that they even did that had me in a chokehold like that. It was my body telling me that the only way to survive if they attacked was to completely submit myself to whatever they wanted from me.
Primal fear.
Sweat is dripping down my face onto my shirt. My heart's beating even faster than when Elaine and Drought opened my rooms door.
I need to catch my breath.
It takes a few minutes but I'm finally able to calm myself. People are staring at me... I must've looked crazy.
I pay no mind to it.
Because as i've calmed down i've realised, ive just gotten some good information.
To instill that level of fear from just a glance? There's no way thats a human level of power. This is strong evidence to support my theory on otherworldly powers.
I grin a little...
If im correct about inhuman powers... I hope there's a book on them in there.
My head turns to the library as I stand slowly, one leg at a time, and drag myself there.